The Lost Fullmetal Heart
by Dobby's Socks
Summary: After the Promised Day, Edward took his little brother home to rest and heal. But one day, he returns to the life of a Military Dog. Why? Rated for language and alcohol, FMA belongs to Arakawa. COMPLETE
1. Chapter 1

**Hello everyone, this is my first attempt at a multi-chapter FMA fic, so bear with me. This idea really wouldn't leave me alone, therefore I will write. I apologize if the characters seem a little OOC, but I'll do my best.**

**This story takes place after the Promised Day, including all the cannon up to a few days after the battle with Father except for one AU change—Ed still has his alchemy. Because otherwise, this story wouldn't really work that well, and because Ed without alchemy is a little sad. Thank you for reading!**

**Dobby's Polka-Dotted Sock**

**The Lost Fullmetal Heart**

**Prologue**

Major Riza Hawkeye had a measured pace as she walked down the halls of Central Command. A pile of documents in arms with an afternoon deadline on them made her quicken her steps more than usual, but it would not do for her to be seen charging through Headquarters. It would probably induce a panic; Hawkeye never ran unless it was something _extremely_ important and, often, life-threatening.

The team of officers under the command of Brigadier General Roy Mustang, the Flame Alchemist, had spent two years on the dusty outskirts of Amestris, helping the Ishbalan refugees return to and rebuild their homeland. The territory had now been under the control of Major Miles and his associate, the man once known as Scar, for nearly two years following that. The place was truly beginning to thrive, and Riza counted it as one of the many reasons their team had received so many promotions.

Thinking with satisfaction upon the loyalty and efficiency of her co-workers, she reached the door to the Brigadier General's inner office and managed to open it with her paper laden arms to find them—doing absolutely nothing, as per usual.

"—but gee, I can't actually believe he—" 2nd Lieutenant Jean Havoc was saying as he leaned back his special desk chair. The man had been deemed fit to serve only three years ago and was ready for a promotion soon; but not if this was how he spent his workday.

"Uhh- hey Major!" 1st Lieutenant Heymans Breda greeted her, no doubt trying to give his friend a warning as he currently faced a window. Breda did have some files on his desk, but she doubted he had been reading them before she came in.

2nd Lieutenant Vato Falman looked up from his report and gave a polite nod, though she thought he looked a little red from having been caught slacking.

Warrant Officer Kain Feury gave a squeak from where he had been crouched on the floor, petting Black Hayate.

From the inner office, she could hear papers rustling as her superior tried in vain to make it seem as though he was working. She gave a well-practiced sigh, and began distributing the files among the men.

"Sorry, Hawkeye," Havoc did seem genuinely apologetic, "the General just got an interesting piece of mail that he shared with us, and we sort of got distracted."

"The General's gossip is none of my concern, Lieutenant," she took most of the harshness out of her voice to show that he was forgiven, then strode forward with her remaining documents into the office of Roy Mustang.

"Major," he greeted with one of his charming smiles, which slowly wilted under her blank stare. "Thank you for retrieving those documents for me."

"You're welcome, sir."

In an attempt to delay her placing the paperwork on his desk, he spoke again. "Havoc was right about my news being interesting."

"Yes, sir," She simply said, clearing a spot on the cluttered desk for the new clutter.

"I—the whole team, actually—was invited to a wedding."

"A lot of people are invited to weddings, especially Generals, sir."

"A wedding in Resembool."

That stopped her short. "In Resembool?" She repeated. Why on earth…? "Who?'

"Well, that should be fairly obvious, Major. I wouldn't even have to open that letter to know Fullmetal's finally come out of his self-denial. We're too busy to attend, so should we send a gift instead?"

"I'm surprised you would be welcome at any wedding of Edward's…but, he's so young. They both are." Sure, the elder of the two Elric Brother's could be hasty about things, but usually important decisions such as this were carefully weighed in his mind. Of course, it was rather obvious that Edward had feelings for his friend Winry Rockbell, and it was mostly accepted truth that these feelings were reciprocated. To have taken such a leap so suddenly, though…

She stood a little too long, looking at Mustang. Finally, she let out a breath and set the paperwork down, much to the chagrin of her superior officer. "Please finish these before you start thinking about sending gifts, sir."

"Yes, Major," he sighed, defeated. And though the news circulated Headquarters a few times, the intervening years buried it amongst the other gossip.

But Edward Elric would always manage to resurface.


	2. Chapter 2

**Well, I hoped you all liked the prologue, because here is chapter one.**

**Dobby's Polka-Dotted Sock**

**Chapter One:**

**Back to Work**

The scene was a familiar one to him, even in 1924. Truly, his circumstances really had not changed.

Worn boots caked on the bottoms with dried mud and dust stepped off the train, but he did not make such a flashy spectacle these days. The coat of flames was now dulled to a fading brown. The tell-tale watch was hidden away deep in trouser pocket, the bulky chain finer, yet also less strong. A bare hand was brought from his vest pocket to readjust the hat perched atop his head, the brim shielding striking eyes from the sun. These days it was almost disrespectful to be seen with a bare head. He'd learned finally to enjoy privacy and being inconspicuous helped in that endeavor. His ungloved hand firmly gripped a battered suitcase handle.

It was tempting, however, to bring this hand up to his right shoulder upon exiting the station and seeing Central Command loom in the distance. It was an old habit he still had trouble trying to break.

Yes, nearly everything was exactly the same as he made his way down busy streets. But despite being in among chattering crowds, noisy cars, street vendors, and all other sound, it still seemed too quiet. It had been this way for almost eight years.

He came to the solid black gates, only to find them opening for a large group of what looked like tourists. Well, this at least was new. Maybe some things had changed while he had been gone.

He walked up the gravel path, again not noticed in the group, not sure what it was he was here for. Why had he come? He wasn't sure. He had never really been happy with his job, and sometimes he couldn't even stand the people that came with it. Yet he was tired of long, aimless journeys. He needed a purpose; he needed regularity in his life, something he once had thought would be his.

A young woman in blue uniform had come to meet the people he had walked in with, their tour guide he presumed. He idly thought she might even be younger than him; it would be a first in this building. But eight years was eight years.

Instead of taking the right with them that would eventually lead to the mess hall, he turned left and began to make his way to the office. When he got there, he found an empty room. He must have been standing in confusion for some time, because another younger soldier happened upon him.

"Excuse me, Mister, are you lost?"

"What?" He asked, not quite turning in the other's direction. He hadn't really thought about what he would do if the office was empty. What had he read in a paper recently? 'Promotion to Brigadier General', that was it. Along with that position must have come a bigger, fancier office. He was in the wrong wing. "No, no, I'm fine. Thanks for asking."

It was obvious this man was a new recruit, as he didn't question it. "Alright, well, good luck." A smile stretched across lips, and he shook his head at such friendliness as he walked away.

OoO

"Sirs!" Brigadier General Roy Mustang and his team looked up from their lunch to find two soldiers; one, a corporal who was taking gulps of air as though he had been running for some time, the other a Sergeant who was less winded. It was the Sergeant who had addressed them.

"At ease," Mustang replied, giving a quick, but proper salute. "What seems to be the problem?"

"Well, the Corporal says that he came across a strange man standing outside one of the empty offices in the East Wing. I believe it was your old office, General." The General in question raised an eyebrow while his men tensed, sending questioning, but steady looks at each other.

"Alright, what did he want?" It seemed the obvious question.

"We don't know," the Sergeant admitted, and then turned a withering look upon his fellow soldier who shrunk back in response, "The Corporal let him go, and didn't think to let anyone else know until just now." It was clear what the Sergeant's opinion was of the young man.

The General rose. "I see. Corporal, from now on, never let an intruder out of your sight. Do you understand?" The tone was firm, but not overly harsh, and the soldier stuttered back,

"Y-yes, sir!"

"Alright, men, we're going to have to find this stranger. If he's after me, then most likely he's continued his search in the General's Sector. He might even be in my office at this moment. Let's move."

"Sir," Hawkeye protested, "If you are the target, then—"

"I like to face my enemies, rather than hide behind my men. You know that, Major."

She sighed. "Yes, sir."

The normally cheerful team was silent on their way back to their workspace. Hands rested over pistols, ready to draw and fire at a moment's notice. Mustang was in the lead, and halted them a few feet from the office door. Havoc and Breda came forward, standing on either side of the entrance. The Sergeant kicked the door in, and they rushed through, guns out and pointed.

Nothing. But the inner office door was slightly ajar.

"Come in," said a voice, that seemed tired and amused at the same time, and yet also familiar.

Mustang gritted his teeth in annoyance and motioned for them to ignore them voice. The process was repeated on the inner office door. This time the barrels of their guns focused on the back of a tall figure, forehead resting on an arm that leaned on a bookcase, the shelves of which contained large alchemy tomes and old photographs. She thought she saw long strands of gold spilling out from underneath the beat-up fedora he wore.

"Abusive to your own furnishings, hmm," The intruder noted to himself.

"I'd like to know why you are in amongst my furnishings," Mustang demanded. She knew it irked him that the other man did not face them. He could be hiding something.

"Relax, I don't have any weapons. Only ever carried one gun in my life, and I gave it back to you."

"What?" Clearly the General didn't know what was meant by this, but suddenly Riza did.

"_Edward_?"

"Yeah, it's me," he turned and even under the brim of the hat, they could see the golden eyes. He looked…healthy. She was sad to note that what he didn't look was happy; no, Edward Elric had the same haunted, forlorn feeling about him that he had had ever since she met him. It expressed itself in the slump of his shoulders, the weary voice and smile he supplied them, and deep within the pools of his unique eyes still rimmed with slightly noticeable bags. She noticed his ever-present suitcase resting by the couch in front of Mustang's desk.

"Chief! Wha-what are you doing here?" Havoc asked the question all of them were thinking.

His mouth quirked and one eyebrow arched. "Hey, Havoc, nice to see you up and about, too." Guns were sheepishly lowered, and Havoc scratched the back of his neck.

"Well, hi, good to see—"

"The chatter can be saved for later. Right now, I'd like you to answer Havoc's question, Fullmetal." Mustang seemed more relaxed upon recognizing his wayward subordinate, but was just as thrown as his team by the sudden reappearance of said wayward subordinate.

"Well, as far as I know, I'm still listed as an active military State Alchemist. So I figured, it was about time I came back from my personal day." He shrugged his shoulders at their skeptical faces. Eight years was a long personal day.

"Look, just because you're listed—well, the military isn't holding you to your job. You've more than served your country." It was very true. Not many soldiers in the Amestrian military could say they had defeated an almost God-like being.

Edward sighed. "I guessed you'd say that. Okay then, where else am I supposed to go?"

"Um….your wife?" It was nearly shocking that it was Fuery that broached this subject, but she pushed that thought back. What was Edward doing here, when he had family back in Resembool? Family that he had presumably been living with until now?

"My _what_?" Edward seemed to revert back to his familiar teenage antics, eyes wide and mouth hanging open in disbelief.

"What do you mean, 'your what'? We got an invitation to the wedding nearly—four years ago!" Breda replied, a little indignant, perhaps on Mrs. Elric's behalf.

"Four years—what?—ohhhh," His eyes lit up in realization of something, just like they used to when he had deciphered an old alchemy code.

"You were at a wedding four years ago, weren't you?" Mustang questioned, almost like a lawyer.

He let out what sounded like a sigh and a laugh combined. "I was, bu—"

"Then what's the confusion about?" She wasn't even sure who asked that one.

"_But_, I was not the one standing in the front."

It took a moment for that to sink in.

"Wait, what?"

"But, the letter said—"

"Rockbell-Elric! What else are we supposed to think!"

"The envelope was addressed in your handwriting," Mustang cut through his subordinates in a calmer tone.

"Did you happen to actually _read_ what was in the envelope as well?"

"I glanced at the front; you know I have a busy schedule these days."

"Yeah, yeah, well, if you'd actually read the thing, you would have noticed that it did not say my name anywhere on that invitation."

"It-it said Elric. And you sent the letter." Fuery seemed to be trying to put the pieces together out loud. Behind him, Falman was frowning in concentration, no doubt berating himself for not having actually looked at the invitation in question.

"In case you forgot, I'm not the only Elric alive. I sent it for them, thought maybe you'd want to go." There was silence.

"Oh," said Havoc. Then, "Ohhh…wow. Um, gee Chief, uh- we uh," No one was quite sure what to say. It had been established truth among the office that Edward and Winry were a thing, no matter how much either of them denied it. Now, they suddenly were confronted with the fact that _Alphonse_ and Winry were a thing, had been a thing for four years.

She tried to gage some sort of reaction from him, but if there was any pain he kept the wound well-buried. Or perhaps he'd become desensitized to it while he was…

"Then where have you been?" She asked before thinking.

"Traveling. The usual, studying alchemy, getting in fights, unfortunately." He had never referred to the battles he would find himself in as unfortunate. Perhaps the loss of Winry to Alphonse had matured him some.

Mustang cleared his throat. "You're sure you want to continue working here?"

"Where else am I going to get a job? I'm all yours," He said spreading his arms out to the group.

"Alright. Sergeant, let our superiors know that Fullmetal has officially returned to active duty."

She had almost forgotten the two other soldiers had been present. "Yes, sir!"

"Glad that's settled. If you'll all excuse me, I have to go make some long-term living arrangements. I'll report in tomorrow."

"Ah—right," The General said, not expecting the younger alchemist to even consider his duties. And Edward walked out the door and down the hall, no doubt excited whispers following in his wake. "Did that seem unreal to any of you?" Mustang finally asked his team.

"No sir, I'll believe it if he shows up tomorrow," Breda, ever the skeptic, responded.

"Well, back to work," Hawkeye said, and the men sighed.

"You know, I really don't think that was real either," Havoc muttered to the others.

"Why's that?" Fuery asked quietly.

"Because," Havoc replied with certainty, "There's no way that could have been the Chief. He was taller than the General."

She glanced back to see her superior pale in realization.

Riza was not sure what to make of this sudden development. All this time, she had thought that Edward and Alphonse were living comfortable, well-deserved, lives in Resembool with Winry Rockbell, when in actuality the older Elric Brother had still been wandering around the countryside, alone this time. The Edward that had returned to them was different, and she did not know how to meet him.

**How was it? Any good? I'm sorry if I messed up with any of the promotions, every time I mentioned Mustang or Hawkeye I had to double-check to make sure I used the ranks I assigned them. Oh well, they deserve them. You'll eventually learn more about how and why Winry ended up marrying Alphonse, and what Edward's been up to for eight years. He's about 24/25 now, if anyone wants to know. Thanks for reading, and let me know what you think!**


	3. Chapter 3

**So this story seems to be pretty well-liked. I'm incredibly happy, 6 reviews is awesome, you guys made my weekend! **

**Also, in response to awesomenaruto's review: Nah, I'm not planning any yaoi/yuri pairings. Not that I'm totally against people doing that, I just wouldn't be able to write it very well, I don't personally like reading/writing slash in FMA because to me it just doesn't seem to fit. That's just my opinion; also there's the logistics of the fact that military dictatorships (even if they're slowly transforming into democracies) in the early 20th century weren't really cool with that, so I don't really have any plans for that kind of conflict, it'd just get in the way. By all means, if people like that sort of thing, keep doing what you're doing, but please don't stop reading this!**

**Dobby's Polka-Dotted Sock**

**Chapter Two:**

**Subtle Prying**

Edward did come into work the next morning and showed up promptly, which meant just after Hawkeye and Falman. He did so the next day, and the day after that. People stopped to express surprise at his reappearance, and he shrugged off questions as to his whereabouts the past few years, how things were at home, and simply raised his left hand to negate the lingering rumors. He gave polite smiles and shook hands, stares still following after him through the week.

What he didn't realize was that he was driving his co-workers mad.

"I just can't understand it," Breda muttered furiously when Edward took his turn to retrieve more documents and reports for them to read. "He finally achieved the goal he'd been busting his butt for, the only reason he was here in the first place, and basically gets a free out from the military. Then he just comes back eight years later? What could have possibly driven him to that decision?"

"Security, I'd guess," said their superior off-hand. "Fullmetal probably went out into the real world and finally realized that you can't win everything."

"Yeah, he found out from his _little brother_," Havoc agreed, shaking his head in sympathy. "Guys like me and Ed just can't seem to catch a break."

Breda snorted. "If you're putting yourself and the Chief in the same camp, then you haven't seen the stir he's been causing at the receptionist's desks. They love him."

"Well, let's just hope he hasn't learned from your examples," Riza finally said, leveling them all with a harsh look. It was not acceptable to talk about one of your peers like that, especially when said peer was out doing something for them. The office returned to quiet just in time; the alchemist in question walked through the door a moment later.

Just because she didn't participate in the office's idle chitchat didn't mean she wasn't thinking about it in her own mind, however. Riza thought she had a rough idea of how Edward had moved from point A to B.

He and Alphonse had gone home and recovered from their many ordeals. Then Edward's way of wandering had taken over and he had gone traveling. Why Winry and Alphonse were now together, why Edward seemed perfectly fine with the idea, and why he had decided to come back here instead of his hometown were all mysteries to her. Which was why she allowed Breda and Havoc to carry out their plan.

"Hey Hawkeye, it's the weekend and we finished work early, what say we all head to the bar and kick back a few drinks?" Havoc flashed one of his grins her way. She normally did not agree, but tonight was a different story.

"My schedule is free."

"Alright, that just leaves—you, Chief. How about it?"

Edward managed to lift his gaze from the enormous book he was in the middle of.

"Sure, I've got nothing else to do."

She felt a few stirrings of guilt as they reached their somewhat-regular bar. It wasn't nice to try and trick Edward, but they didn't want to just outright ask him what had happened. And he didn't seem as readable anymore; his eyes still showed traces of what he was feeling, but it was like he was trying to communicate to the world and they only received half of it.

"Well Chief, now you get to see what we do off the clock, so to speak," Havoc informed the younger man.

"This should be interesting," he replied with twitching lips.

"Hey, it'll be fun," Breda said. "Come on, we've got a table in the corner." The corner table helped to give a view of everything in the room, and so they all saw the barmaid coming.

"Let's start light, shall we?" Falman suggested and Riza nodded. She still wasn't too sure of this idea, and she most definitely did not want them to turn Edward into a heavy drinker for the sake of information.

The first round was brought to the table.

"What do you think?" Breda asked, curious as Edward took a sip.

"Uh, it's fine. It's just beer, is it supposed to be special?" The blond was making an odd face and Breda could only shrug in confused response.

And hour and a few drinks later, Fuery and Falman had both bid goodnight and returned to their homes, Havoc had met, flirted with, and lost another girl to Mustang, who was currently sharing jokes with the lady. Breda and Hawkeye sat on either side of Edward, making small talk and occasionally slipping a question in, and yet had made little to no progress. The younger male looked about as sober as he started.

"You know, I've always wanted to travel like you an' Alphonse," Breda said. "Where you been to recently?"

"Here and there," Edward replied. "I've been all around Amestris and to the surrounding countries."

"So you visited your friends in Xing?" Riza asked. There would be some details. They could possibly even try asking the Emperor Ling Yao himself the next time he deigned to call the Amestrian military.

"And how did you possibly get into Drachma?" Breda demanded. Relations with the northern country were still tense, if not hostile. No war had started, but diplomatic meetings were going very slowly.

"Through my friends in Xing," he replied, nodding a head towards Hawkeye to acknowledge her question.

"Why did you go to all these countries?"

"I've been researching different branches of alchemy, and science in general. Surprisingly, getting yourself into the Xingese Emperor's History Book wins you a lot of favors, even for the most ridiculous things," His smile was that of a private joke as he downed the last of his drink. He stood, steady as a rock, and said, "Not that this hasn't been fun or anything, but I'm going to head home considering that the Co—sorry, General taken leave with his ill-gotten lady."

As Riza snapped her head around to confirm this, Havoc let out a despairing moan. The General had left with his new friend. She sighed at this typical behavior, at least her superior could have let her know first.

"Alright, on your feet soldier," Breda teased, lifting Havoc by one of his elbows. "You going to be good getting him home, Hawkeye?"

"It's on the way. And the East District isn't that shady." She also had her pistol hidden in her purse, of which Breda knew.

"The East District, huh?" Edward said, tilting his head slightly, "That's where my new apartment is. I can help carry this guy." So each of them slung one of Havoc's arms over their shoulders and assisted him enough to stumble out of the bar.

"Really, Havoc," Riza sighed, "you can't drink away your losses to this point. You'll find someone eventually."

"But, it'sssslike, he doesneven try!" Havoc slurred.

"Then they're not worth you trying for," Edward reasoned and Riza tucked away that idea to retell the Lieutenant when he was sober.

"Mhm-hmm," the other man mumbled, his head bouncing off Edward's shoulder and lolling over to rest on hers. She sighed again, then turned to look again at Edward. He was calmly keeping pace, one arm supporting Havoc's back and the other tucked in his pocket.

"Edward," she finally said. "I was wondering, back at the bar…" she trailed off, not sure how to continue.

"Yeah?"

She supposed there was no other way to go around it. "You seemed to handle yourself quite well. This wasn't your first time drinking?"

His lips twitched with some amusement. "You caught me," he answered. When she still looked questioningly at him, he elaborated. "To be honest, Hawkeye, I don't really remember my first drink. When you go help out rural towns all over, people at the inn you're staying in get a little toast-happy. And they want their 'Hero' to join in. I'd have grown men shoving mugs of beer in my face, and I really didn't know what to do otherwise."

She nodded, thinking it over. "I guess that makes sense. You were young and impressionable."

"Yeah, that's what they thought, too. Course, I also replaced the old man as Granny Pinako's drinking buddy sometime after training with Teacher. That old lady sure has a great poker face," He shook his head slightly, perhaps remembering countless past defeats. Riza could only stop walking in shock and stare, but it didn't throw them off because Edward stopped, too.

"This is his street right? I glanced at the address on the license. It's close to mine, so I recognized it." She managed a nod after glancing at the street sign. "Well, I guess I'll see you Monday; let's go, Havoc." He lifted the snoozing man's other arm off her shoulder and walked the other man down his street, the both of them gradually fading away beyond the dim yellow lamp lights.

Riza finally started walking again, trying to process that even before she had met him, Edward was being trained in drinking and gambling. How on earth had he turned out as well as he did? It almost made her groan aloud to think that not only did she not know this new Edward, but she had hardly known the old one as well.

Could it all have been a mask learned at the card table? Was this just a new one, or was she and everyone else finally seeing Edward Elric for the first time?

**Yeah, not sure how this part turned out, but I've been holding onto it for a few days and it's not going to change. I always felt like Granny would have used Ed as her new drinking buddy; that woman doesn't care about corrupting kids. And she always seemed more familiar with Ed, more like they were equals in a way, as opposed to Al, who she treated more like a grandson. Because Alphonse is just Alphonse. Let me know what you think in a review!**


	4. Chapter 4

**Here's another chapter because your reviews make me that happy. Thanks so much!**

**Dobby's Polka-Dotted Sock**

**Chapter Three:**

**Moving Up**

With one hand, he pushed open the inside door of Central Headquarters, and with the other he tipped his hat as he spoke a "Morning," to the young woman at the front desk. She seemed to go red for a moment, and then stammered a response.

"G-good morning, Major, sir!" She had stood straight up from her chair and snapped a perfect salute. And he honestly didn't know if that was what he wanted or not.

"At ease," he finally joked, and this time she really did flush red. He was about to continue on his way to Mustang's office when she suddenly spoke again.

"Oh- sir!" He turned and she hurried over with a crisp, official looking letter. "The Führer requests your presence at 9 o'clock today."

"Thank you," he said, but inside he sighed as he tucked the paper away. He had been wondering when old Grumman would finally want to see him; it had been a bit surprising that a whole week had gone by, but really being the president of a nation trying to rebuild its politics was a busy profession.

Grumman had never gotten to know him that well, so the most he would probably ask would be what had he been up to? Did he learn anything new on his travels? Why was he interested in rejoining the military? It was all anyone ever asked.

It was his fault, he knew that deep down. You can't just disappear off the radar for eight years and then waltz right back into the established routine without a fuss. He could try, but eventually he would have to answer them.

But why, really? Had he ever asked any of them personal family questions? No, he'd figured if they wanted to talk, they would. As a child, however, trying to grow up and still be able to keep in touch with Al, he had worn his heart on his sleeve, as though engraved on his old automail. They were to knowing everything about his life, but he couldn't bear weighing them down with this one. Not this time.

OoO

"Ah, Major Elric, so glad I could finally meet with you after all this time," Grumman's smile was a grandfatherly as ever. The older man meant well, but Edward knew he also had a political agenda to run.

"It's a pleasure to talk with you as well, sir," he returned.

"From what I've heard, I trust you have many interesting things to share about your journeys?"

"Oh, I couldn't possibly take up all your time with those. Perhaps I'll write them down sometime."

"You should. Really, Fullmetal, your life reads like some epic novel of old," the Führer laughed and Edward cracked a smile. Finally the older man sat straighter behind his desk and cleared his throat. "Down to some business then. You see, Edward, after all you have done for this country, the rank of Major just doesn't suffice." Edward's eyes widened as he realized what turn this had taken. "That's why, if you really do want to stay with a career in the military, I would be honored to promote you to Lieutenant Colonel." He placed a plain box at Edward's end of the table, and the younger opened it to reveal familiar star pins that had adorned Mustang's uniform for nearly as long as he had known him.

"Th-that's really not necessary, sir," Edward started, but Grumman waved him off.

"It's either the promotion or a big parade. One way or another, the people of Amestris will show their appreciation." Edward took the box, and Grumman smiled again. "Now, as a higher ranked officer, you'll have your own office. Don't worry too much, as you're still under the direct command of Brigadier General Mustang, it won't be that far away." He was glad for that. As much as the other man could infuriate him, Edward didn't quite want to face Central Command on his own yet. If ever.

"His other subordinates will move back and forth between the offices, as I'd like Mustang to receive more of our guests than he normally does; he has a certain charisma, you know?" Edward managed to turn his shaking head into a nod of agreement. Yes the General could be quite nice, when he wanted.

"You're things are already being moved, not that difficult a task. You really don't keep much, do you?" Edward had barely opened his mouth to say, "No, sir," when Grumman carried on with, "No matter, you'll have more room now, I daresay." That was true, Edward mused, and he could maybe move some of those boxes of books he kept tripping over in his apartment. Even with automail, he always managed to stub the toes of his right foot.

Grumman stood, and Edward matched the motion, reaching forward to shake hands with the man. "It's good to have you on board again, Edward."

"Thank you, sir."

OoO

"What am I going to do with these, Sheska?" He leaned on the counter and held the little stars out in one hand. "I don't even wear the uniform."

"I think they're more for official records, Edward. And maybe if someone really important came you might have to wear yours." She pushed her glasses up while she flipped through the library records book. Even though Sheska still did a lot of work for the investigations department, she had been relocated to the library, much to her delight. Edward liked this arrangement, too, because he knew her, and because it meant less hassle trying to find old alchemy books. Currently she was searching to see if one of the volumes he had been interested in was checked out or not.

"I guess," he agreed. "I just, well, I wasn't expecting a promotion, really. I don't really see what I've done to get one."

She stopped looking and lifted her eyes to his face. "That's a little funny, because a lot of people don't think that way." He rolled his eyes at the compliment and turned with his back to the counter, elbows propped on the surface, but she pushed on. "Honest! And, maybe it'll be good for you. You get a pay raise, you don't have to salute as many people," he couldn't help but to grin at that, "and you were saying that you wished people would stop treating you like a kid. This is a good way to start that change."

"I know, I know, I just wanted a little respect, not this much. And I'm already so swamped with cash I honestly have no idea what I'll do with a raise. Maybe I could…" he trailed off, a thought coming to him. He pushed off the counter and whirled around to face her again. "Listen, Sheska, hold the book for me. I've been holding off making a phone call. Plus I should probably figure out where my new office is." He strode from the library, as she called after him,

"If I find it, I'll send someone with it for you!"

"Don't worry about it," he gave that lazy backward wave and was out the door.

OoO

Riza had finally found an open counter at the library. In the afternoon, most people—usually State Alchemists—either returned or checked out books before leaving work for the day. Normally she wasn't caught in this rush, but the General had almost forgotten this book was due back today. Normally Generals wouldn't be in trouble for turning in books late, but Mustang wanted to set the best example possible on his way up the ladder, so she didn't mind doing this favor.

"Can I help you?" She recognized the brown haired woman behind the counter and offered a smile.

"Yes, I came to return this book for the Brigadier General." The other woman took it, stamped it, and then seemed to double-take, before picking the book back up with triumph.

"This is it!" She said to seemingly no one in particular. Then she looked back up at Riza's inquisitive look. "Oh, excuse me, Major. It's just, the Ma—I mean, the Lieutenant Colonel put this on hold, so I've been keeping an eye out for it." The Lieutenant Colonel? She must have meant Edward, explaining the slip-up. She and the others in Mustang's team, including the General himself, couldn't help but feel proud of the other. Lieutenant Colonel was quite the accomplishment.

"If that's the case, I could take it to him. It's on my way," And it would be a good idea to scout out her new part-time office.

"Would you? I wouldn't normally ask, but we're a little busy."

"Of course, I won't hold you up any longer."

She left the still crowded library and walked through the halls, the volume tucked once more under her arm. She wondered what Edward would think of it as opposed to the conclusions drawn by the General, and whether an alchemy novel could hold different ideas and meanings to different people. She finally found the office, the outer portion looked a ghost town; all the furniture was in place, but there wasn't a single pencil, pen or paper, no books or pictures, and no one around. She could hear the phantom of this place himself, treading across thin carpet, every other footstep sounding slightly off.

"Hm? Yeah, I'm thinking it'd be a good idea." A pause, he must be on the phone then. She wondered if she should wait, or interrupt. The General usually liked to end his phone calls first before attending to other business, so she waited by the door.

"Well, what does he like?" A shorter pause this time, before an irritable snap, "Something good for him." Now almost reminding, "Preferably of a monetary value?" She risked poking her head in to find him pacing, the receiver wedged between his shoulder and the side of his head, the cradle of the phone scooped up in one arm allowing him to pace even further from his desk, while his free hand jotted something down in his old journal. Somehow he seemed tense, like this conversation was going on longer than he had hoped it would. "Look—I'll just think of something. I know I'm not good at that! But—hey, wait a minute. Hello?"

Riza started to think of something to say, nervous at the tone this phone call was taking, but then Edward heaved a sigh. It sounded not angry, but more—resigned.

"Hi, Van. I'm fine." She had hardly ever felt this confused before, and strained to hear who was on the other line, but then Edward stopped. It was as if he went absolutely rigid for a moment, and then he swiveled on the spot to face her in the doorway. Riza wasn't really sure what to do, so she gave a salute.

"Listen, I got to go." Another pause, although he winced this time. "I know, I know, I'm kind of bust though, alright? Ok, goodbye." He hung the phone up and then placed the whole thing back on the desk, which had nothing else on it. "Am I needed?" He asked her, so she walked forward with the book.

"Sheska asked me to drop this off with you," His eyes lit up in recognition, and he took the proffered object.

"Right, thanks Hawkeye, you didn't have to—"

"I thought I should see how you were settling in. And congratulate you on your promotion." She added.

"Oh, it's alright. A little empty, but I can figure something out. And thanks, again."

"Of course." Although dying to ask, Riza stayed silent about what she had overheard. It was quite obvious Edward did not wish to speak about it. She was walking Hayate later when another thought came to mind. The Major prided herself, albeit quietly, on being very hard to catch at snooping. So how had he suddenly noticed her like that, without anything to give her away?

**There's another chapter for you all. Hopefully that will raise a few questions, not that I haven't already raised enough. Don't worry though, all will be explained. Although I have been thinking….does anyone want to see Armstrong in the next chapter or so? Let me know in a review!**


	5. Chapter 5

**I should probably stop staying up late into the morning to update, but I can't resist the reviews. So here's a flashback chapter; yes, I know flashbacks are lame, but hey, you get a glimpse into Ed's mysterious past.**

**Dobby's Polka-Dotted Sock**

**Chapter Four:**

**Healing With the Sands of Time**

_**1919**_

The blindfold was beginning to make the tip of his nose itch, but he couldn't be bothered to scratch at it. He had to stop thinking of trivial…and not so trivial things if this was going to work. Sure, he was still a little doubtful, but Edward had seen this strange ability in action and knew it would only help him with all the trouble he got into. It would have helped in the past, too—

"Boo!"

"Argh!" In anger he whipped the cloth off his head to whirl around and glare at his squinty-eyed 'teacher', who was currently sporting quite the grin. "Dammit, Ling!"

"Haha, sorry, I couldn't resist. But really, if I'd been an enemy, you would have gotten worse than a fright; your benevolent Emperor is merely trying to help you."

"You're not _my_ Emperor, Ling. I came to you as a friend."

"Yes, seeking asylum and all that."

"Not political asylum!"

"Romantic asylum, then. Sorry," he added sheepishly as Edward turned a downcast face away. "I say things I don't mean to you. You seem very much like an impenetrable wall at times, Ed. Not much gets through to hurt you."

"Yeah, well if I can learn to sense the energy in living things around, even less will get in. So are you going to take this seriously?" He began tying the blindfold again.

"Yes, yes, though I'd rather you relax instead of throwing yourself into even more training. Take advantage of the wonderful landscape and climate of my country; it is exquisite, isn't it?"

"Sure," said Edward, blindfold in place blocking any potential view he could have been observing.

"Let us continue. Your problem is that you need a clearer head. I'm afraid you think far too much, my friend. Always studying and fretting, chasing your mind around in circles."

"At least I have something in there."

"No need to get testy. A calmer attitude would help. In fact, that may be more of a problem for you, Edward. You fly off the handle far too easy; I've noticed some improvement in that area from two years ago, but still, temperament is key."

"So, what you're saying is, this currently will get me no where?"

"Essentially."

"Then what are we doing this for?" Again, the blindfold was removed.

"Relax, you see? I know someone who's quite the expert at controlling and hiding emotions." He didn't need to be able to feel energy to know that Ling was staring a little over his shoulder at one of his—to Edward—invisible guards.

OoO

"Why exactly do you wish to learn this, Edward?" Lan Fan asked in her quiet way.

"I just—well, it would help my studies in alkehestry. And it would make me better at fighting, since I do that a lot. And I, I just can't help thinking that it would have made it all—different," he finished lamely, shoulders drooping.

"I do not know all the details, but I am sorry, Edward. I too, know what it's like to give up. Your problem with your emotions is that you let them control you, when it should be the other way around. You must come to terms with your feelings, with yourself."

"That makes sense. I just don't know how to do it." She seemed to sit in thought for a while, and then began again.

"Correct me if I am wrong, but what drives you is guilt, Edward. You take responsibly for your actions and are upset when things go wrong because you feel you have caused them." She forced him to hold her gaze even though his eyes almost reflexively dropped to her cold, metal arm.

"I am not going to tell you to let go of your guilt, or that these things are not your fault. That is for you to decide. What you must do is acknowledge that this guilt is a large part of you, and that though you will not part with it, you refuse to let it rule you. Then you will begin to think with a clearer mind."

"…I never looked at it that way before. Thank you, Lan Fan. For a minute there I thought you were going to preach at me or something."

"I want to help you Edward, both as my orders and as a friend. Therefore I'm not going to waste valuable time on idealistic lessons that have no hold on your reality."

"I'll keep that in mind, you've been a big help."

"I'm glad," she replied with a slight upward curve to her lips.

OoO

"You know, you were a lot more fun the night you arrived here, Edward." Ling Yao, Emperor of Xing, lounged in a chair of the royal library and watched his guest pore over another large, dusty tome. As the last two emperors had not been particularly intrigued by the study of alkehestry, books on the subject had largely gone unread.

Edward resisted the urge to scowl at the other's persistent attempts at conversation, and replied in a calm tone, "I'm not getting completely drunk with you every night Ling, that'd hardly be good for either of us." Inside he shuddered at how much he must have consumed that night.

"Yes, well if you're going to be staying here for some time, you should look up a book on proper Court Etiquette. I would like to show off my famous Amestrian friend, you know, but not if he acts like a brazen commoner."

"You do realize where I came from, right?" A twitch of the lips; when he stopped to think about it, Ling's occasional pettiness and royal upbringing were quite amusing.

"Hm, well, you're now in a far better place, with far better people in it. I'd drink to that with you. But if you're going to continue what you're currently doing, then I have some awfully exciting paperwork to be filling out."

"Have fun," was all he said as the Emperor swept out of the room.

It must have been hours later, but when he glanced up, breaking his single-minded attention on the book, to find the candle almost burning out he also heard a small noise. He really needed to work on his ability to sense the energy, or Chi, of people.

But the noise was father away, and didn't sound like someone creeping towards him with evil intentions. Someone was in the room, straining for something.

Edward stood and traveled as quietly as possible, thankful for the thick carpet under his shoes, and saw the dim glow of another candle some shelves away. When he rounded the corner into the aisle the light was coming from, he was a little surprised.

It was Mei, still a little round-faced, but at least a couple inches taller. The panda, he couldn't quite remember its name, slept soundly on the girl's shoulder as she continued to struggle for a book that was two shelves too high for her reach. It was her own single-minded determination to obtain it that kept her from noticing his presence.

He reached a hand over her, and longer fingers snagged the volume in question, bringing it back down to her level. Mei spun around, he thought he could see a knife hidden in her sleeve, and looked up at him.

"E-Edward?" She asked, genuinely surprised. Probably disappointed, too, now that he thought about it. In the dim light to a hopeful girl, he probably could have passed for her precious Alphonse-sama. He chose to simply hand her the book. She took it with a questioning gaze. "What exactly are you doing here?

"I was on the road and decided to pay a visit. I'd heard Xing was quite the beautiful place." He'd heard 2nd Lieutenant Maria Ross mention it once two years ago. "I would've thought you would know by now." Come to think of it, it had been a little odd he hadn't bumped into her before now; he'd met plenty of Ling's other siblings by now.

"I was visiting and meeting with my clan," she explained, and he nodded in understanding. Mei had a lot to do for someone so young. Battling Homunculi might have even seemed like a vacation to her; less politics in it, anyway. "Are you by chance studying alkehestry while you are here?" She asked, drawing his attention back.

"Yeah, I thought it would be good to know all branches of alchemy before considering myself an expert." Truthfully he was also interested in learning the alchemy that his father practiced, as opposed to the branch taught by Father's diciples.

"I would be happy to answer any questions you have. I'm not sure how much good it will do, Alphonse-sama did not totally understand it."

"Yeah, sometimes you have to try a few different ways of saying it. He's really smart, but I still remember trying to teach him alchemy when we were kids." She almost frowned at his rather forced laugh, and he found himself scratching the back of his neck under her stare. "I should be getting back to my room," he finally said.

"Of course," she said, but called out again as he stepped away from the candle's warm glow, "Edward! Welcome."

"Thanks, Mei, good to see you."

OoO

_**1920**_

"Edward, there you are!" The charismatic Emperor in luxurious robes laughed and smiled with some of his court, then pulled his friend aside. "Where have you been! Do you know how many times the Chancellor's daughter has been asking for you?" Ling hissed.

"Phone call," Edward muttered, adjusting his tie a little more. "Granny. Listen, Ling, much as I love your royal galas, if I want to be there in time, I have to leave now."

"What, alone? With that leg of yours across the desert? Ed, this isn't just taking a train across some backcountry, you need food, supplies—"

"I'll go with one of the caravans, they have a regular schedule now, and one leaves in three hours."

"You're not giving me much time to organize things, you realize?" the ruler asked with arched brow.

"I'm not going to ask you for anything, you've done more than enough."

"Well, I'm not sending you off to your death empty-handed. He'll knock you cold if you go anywhere near there."

"Maybe not. I was the hot-headed one, remember? But I've got to set it right, Ling. I can't hide out here forever over the biggest misunderstanding of both of our lives. He'll understand. He has to."

"I'm just worried for you, is all. I thought maybe we'd moved beyond all this. You could have a perfect life here, you know? What if he breaks you all over again, Edward? My door is always open, but I don't want to have to keep patching you up inside every time you try to make him see things straight—" Edward sensed Lan Fan behind him first before hearing her speak.

"You are leaving?" He turned to see uncertain eyes gleaming behind her mask.

"Yes. I'm going to make things right again. Thank you, both. And Mei. I've had a great time here, maybe even the best time in some ways. Safety-wise, at least. But I'll never really get past things if I don't _try_." She nodded, and looked imploringly at her master.

Ling sighed. "Alright, Lan Fan, arrange for Edward's things to be packed and ready in under two hours, and a carriage that will take him to the caravan." She was gone as the last word was spoken. "I assume I'm the one making your excuses to the Chancellor's daughter?"

"It shouldn't be that hard, Ling, considering, you know, I'm simply an acquaintance of hers."

"Much to her discontent," he pointed out.

"Be that as it may, thank you, Ling."

"Thank you, my friend. I can honestly I will miss you. Even your cooking." Edward couldn't help but to laugh at this and a few of the other guests looked towards them and smiled at him. He wondered what they would think when they learned that the 'dashing, young Amestrian soldier' departed for his homeland.

"Stop by for Boot Stew sometime, then," he responded.

"I trust you'll have an address by then?"

"I hope to." He shook Ling's hand and strode from the Grand Hall.

"I as well, for your sake."

**So there's some flashbacks as to Edward's time in Xing. I tried to fit as many familiar characters in as possible. I thought they were decently in character, Ling's a little more subdued because, well, he's older and kind of the Emperor of a whole country. I even included Mei, who I'm honestly not a huge fan of, sorry if it showed. I also wanted to show a bit of the transformation of Edward in my story from the irritable teen we all know and love to the calmer, more mature version in my story. Let me know what you thought of this chapter, and I may include more flashbacks throughout the story. Next chapter I plan to go back to the present. Thanks for reading, and please review!**


	6. Chapter 6

**23 reviews? You guys are the best! Seriously, I can't stop thinking about updating this story all day for you, that's how happy this makes me. Thanks so much for your interest in it!**

**Also, I have to apologize to awesomenaruto, whose reviews make me so happy, but….Armstrong's in this chapter. I tried writing around it, but realistically, as soon as that man would hear a rumor of Ed being back, he'd rush on over to give him a hug. Plus, he kind of works in the same building, so it'd be a little odd if he didn't stop by. I tried to tone down his character a little, while staying true to Arakawa's ideas, but sorry if it bugs you.**

**Dobby's Polka-Dotted Sock.**

**Chapter Five:**

**Testing the Waters**

Edward was starting to become just another regular face at Central Command. He spoke politely with others, finished his work on time, and spent whatever time he had left wandering the library or sitting alone in his office with a book. As such, she rarely saw him on her breaks, as she spent that time at the firing range keeping her aim as accurate as ever. But what time she did spend at his office, Riza Hawkeye endeavored to help the young Lieutenant Colonel as much as the Brigadier General.

"Edward, you might want to take the books out of the boxes and put them on the shelves. Your visitors and subordinates need places to sit," she mentioned one morning early in the month. He looked up from his stack of paperwork to see the boxes in question.

"Right," he said sheepishly, standing and coming around the desk. "I brought them in and meant to unpack, and I guess I picked one of them up and started reading…my apologies." She gave him a reassuring smile.

"It's fine, I'm sure they're all very interesting books. I can help put them away if you wish."

"That'd be great, Hawkeye. Honestly, I'm glad they put these shelves in here, I don't have quite enough space in my apartment."

"I suggested that they do so. And all of these are the extra?" There had to be at least four boxes full.

"I'm a bit of an impulsive buyer when it comes to literature," he grinned at her as he took an armful of books.

"Nothing to be ashamed of. I find it admirable that you constantly try to increase your knowledge on a subject." Part of the reason she was considered the best sharpshooter was that she never let up on practice, while others would reach a proficient level and become lazy. That led to slower reflexes and mistakes. And Riza knew she couldn't afford that in her line of work. "What's this?" she asked, picking up a smaller box.

"Oh, those are my language dictionaries," he replied, glancing over his shoulder to check. "I kept those separate so I wouldn't lose them somewhere in all this. With those, I can get by reading or speaking other languages."

"Really? Couldn't you just get translated versions of books?" She was curious as to why he would make things more difficult for himself.

"Yeah, but then, I'm not really reading the real thing, am I? What if the translator missed something that only the author could express? Plus, with traveling it makes it easier if I make an attempt to fit in. That and I hate when people are talking and I can't understand them."

"I see," she wondered at that. How long had Edward spent visiting foreign countries far from the familiar comforts of home? Did he even have any of those comforts here? The walls of the office were the standard off-white, and aside from the shelves and filling cabinet, nothing adorned them. "You should hang something up, maybe some photographs?" She suggested, brushing a hand across one wall.

He shook his head. "I don't really have any."

"There have to be some somewhere. Maybe," she hesitated, unsure of whether to broach the subject. She knew the General so well, it was easy to predict his every reaction; they stepped a well-worn, steady, practiced dance. Edward was harder to gauge, and yet she decided to take the plunge anyway. "In Resembool?"

If he was angry at her, she couldn't tell. "They're all from when I was a kid, I don't feel like showcasing those. People here barely seem able to comprehend that I'm over twenty," his grimace transformed itself into a bit of a wistful smile as he added, "Besides, Hohenheim took the best one with him."

But she was thinking about something else. Hohenheim….Van Hohenheim! That was why the name Edward had said on the phone had been occupying her mind so often; it was familiar, yet she hadn't been able to place it until now. Even so, Van Hohenheim was dead, so who could he have been speaking to?

She was able to focus back on the current when she realized Edward was scrutinizing her face, and Riza somehow knew that he could tell what she was thinking about. In a brief moment of surprise, she had let her emotions show on her face.

They were still locked in the other's gaze when Falman opened the door, two files Edward required tucked under his arm.

"Oh, it looks as though you've done some organizing," said the other officer, looking around the office.

"Thanks, Falman," Edward replied, taking the papers. "You can the others know the Danger Zone is clear."

"Of course, sir," Falman said with the tiniest amount of amusement, and left.

His back was to her now, as he placed the files on the desk and moved things around. She thought for something to say, but he beat her to it.

"It's a Xingese concept."

"What?"

"'Chi.' The energy given off by living things. The Xingese have worked long and hard, honing their skill at being able to sense it. With lots of practice and a clear head, it's possible. That's how I realized you were there."

"I apologize, sir, it was completely out of line. I wasn't sure whether to interrupt you or—"

"Don't worry about it," he turned around again, waving her off. She realized he seemed somewhat surprised with the notion that she was apologizing to him. "I get that Mustang pretty much lets you in on everything. It's not that I don't trust you guys, it's just—I don't want to be that kid you all feel bad for anymore. Sometimes I don't want to talk, you know? And that's okay, because you shouldn't be bothered with everyone's problems. I'm glad you're my assistant, Hawkeye, but don't worry so much about me. I'll be fine." She saw the resolve in him to handle whatever he was dealing with on his own, and what could she do? Edward was a fully-functioning superior officer. Whatever troubles she suspected he had, she couldn't demand from him. And she understood his need to be seen as mature, independent from his sometimes childish behavior of the past.

"Of course," she replied.

OoO

Her main duties whenever she worked under Edward were to fill out the usual reports and paperwork, help him stay organize, and her own self-imposed duty of giving him further education on proper military protocols. Most of it he readily understood, but every once in awhile she would have to answer a question he had, or remind him of a specific clause. He already seemed much more aware of societal etiquette, where he picked it up she was unsure, but she suspected his royal friends in Xing.

This new side of Edward was never more evident yet than when Alex Louis Armstrong returned.

A breathless Fuery slipped into the mess hall one afternoon, and hurried to the table he had just left fifteen minutes ago.

"Sirs!" He said.

"What's the matter, Fuery?" Mustang asked, raising an eyebrow at the other man.

"I was just heading back to the office, and I passed by the library, an-and—he's back!" Eyes went wide all around the table, and Breda even groaned. Mustang himself let out a long-suffering sigh.

"Sorry I missed the memo, but who are we referring to?"

"Armstrong," Mustang informed the other across the table. "Just before you came back he went on an extended vacation with his family, then headed up north for a week to visit the Major General. I'm sure she was thrilled."

Edward managed to contain his grimace rather well, considering his past experiences with the large man. "I thought someone was missing from the Welcome Wagon last month," he commented.

"Well he's heard you're back now, sir, so you might want to hide or something!" Fuery said, still in a hushed voice as though he feared loud noises would attract the person they discussed.

"And give him more time to build up his enthusiasm? No thanks, Fuery," Edward replied, standing up just in time. The mess doors banged open, and Riza found herself wondering if there would be dents left. In the doorway was framed Alex Louis Armstrong, still fully clothed at least, his hair curl almost brushing the top.

"Edward Elric!" The man boomed, and she worried for her blond superior's back as the Strong Arm approached and reached out. But then, Edward grabbed one of his hands in his own, and was calmly shaking it.

She saw the gold eyes take in his fellow State Alchemist's added pins and stripes, and he said, "Lieutenant Colonel Armstrong, it's been quite some time. This will certainly be belated, but congratulations on your promotion."

Armstrong's eyes had gone wide in surprise and confusion at the interruption to his crushing welcome embrace, but he was soon pumping the younger man's whole arm up and down in sheer joy.

"And I congratulate you on your accomplishments in life!" Edward managed to send a rather cutting look over his shoulder at his male subordinates, and they turned red in embarrassment. Armstrong was still under the assumption that Edward was a married man.

"There you are, Colonel!" 1st Lieutenant Maria Ross somehow managed to pin the man with a stern gaze. "Could you at least check in with your subordinates before seeking out friends?"

"Ah, my apologies, 1st Lieutenant, but I had heard that our Fullmetal Alchemist had returned from home and—" While Armstrong wasn't looking, Edward had discreetly nodded toward the large man and then pointed at his bare ring finger. Ross's eyes lit up in understanding.

"Sir!" She cut in, and muttered something quickly in his ear. Armstrong pulled away, shocked and even a little red in the face. He turned back to Edward, who had placed that same friendly look on his features.

"What I meant to say, was that—" Again, the man was interrupted, but this time by Edward.

"Thanks very much, I'm glad we've both managed reach such an honored position in the military." Armstrong looked both happy and even grateful, perhaps that Edward had saved him from public humiliation. "How was your vacation?"

"Splendid! You all must come to dinner with my family sometime; I have told them so much about you! Of course they already know Lieutenants Hawkeye and Havoc and General Mustang, but they wish to know the rest of such an admirable team!" Some of the men looked shocked and a little ill at the thought, while Havoc just looked depressed.

"There's time for dinner plans later, sir," Ross reasoned with the muscular soldier. "For now, there's paperwork to be caught up on. Good afternoon, sirs," she said to the rest of them.

"Of course, come Lieutenant! Welcome back, Edward, it was good to speak with you again!"

"Thank you," he replied with a smile, they turned to the rest of them when the other two had gone. "Why so glum, Havoc."

"It's just, his family…" Havoc sighed.

"Hey, nothing's worse than the Major General."

"It's not that," Havoc clarified, "It's Catharine."

"That's his youngest sister, right?" Edward asked after thinking back on what he knew.

"Yeah," Havoc sighed again.

"Well, what's wrong with her?"

"Nothing, she's perfect! She's got this beautiful, long blonde hair, amazing blue eyes, and great—" the older man suddenly stopped short, almost chocking on his next word as he stared in horror at his superior. She couldn't help but tense up with the rest of them, and even Mustang looked uncertain. The parallels were too great to be ignored.

"Sounds like a nice girl," Edward said, totally normal. Apparently he could ignore it.

Havoc cleared his throat, swallowed, and looked anywhere but Edward's face when he replied, "Yeah, yeah she is."

**An update at a normal hour? Wow, that's amazing! So yeah, hopefully Armstrong wasn't that bad for those of you who aren't his fans, but not too downplayed for those of you that are. Let me know what you thought! And if you're curious, it's been about a month/two months. Thanks for reading, and please review!**


	7. Chapter 7

**It's official. I'm addicted to updating this story. That's good news for you guys, I guess! **

**VivaNewVegas made the comment that the last chapter seemed a little filler-y, and I would agree, but I wanted to allow for some passage of time before advancing the plot. Plus, if I included what happens in this chapter in the last one, it would have been waaaaaaay too long. At any rate, I think you'll like this one even better.**

**awesomenaruto, I'm glad that you were happy with the Armstrong part, I think he's a likeable character in small doses. Also, I do happen to like the parental genre a lot, and I'll definitely make checking out your story a priority. But I don't think you'd mind if I typed this first.**

**Anyways, to the rest of you, keep reading and giving me feedback, I love to know how I'm doing!**

**Dobby's Polka-Dotted Sock**

**Chapter Six:**

**Evidence of the Past**

General Mustang had slacked off a little during the week due to one too many dates, and now it was deadline time for the weekly paperwork. Everyone was pitching in, Riza at the forefront creating some kind of order. Sheska was running back and forth from the office to the library fetching reference materials so that they could accurately finish reports as quick as possible. Falman also was assisting the process by using his vast encyclopedic knowledge. Fuery, Breda, and Havoc all had severe writer's cramp, but pressed on at increasingly faster paces. Armstrong was holding up the collecting secretaries with the long and glorious tales of his family passed down for generations.

And Edward?

"Fullmetal, you can read my palm later, I'm trying to actually _work_. Go back to your office if you don't intend to help," his superior snapped after a minute of the younger studying each of his fingers.

"Hey, hey, you asked for my help, I'm just going to make sure I do a good job. Hold the pen." Mustang scowled at the order, not a request, but did so. "Ok," Edward finally said. "Now I'm ready." He seized a second pen and signed the name 'Brigadier General Roy Mustang' in neat, yet slightly tilted script. Mustang looked from his own stack to the document Edward had signed. They could pass easily as identical.

"How did you do that?" He reminded himself to keep signing papers, but listened attentively to the other's explanation.

"Everybody holds a pen in their own unique way, depending on the shape, size, and the way they form their fingers. To be an expert at forgery, that's one thing you've got to be able to copy."

"And you learned this how?"

"Well I first heard about it when I broke up that one counterfeit ring years ago, and traveling incognito tends to allow for run-ins with all kinds of con artists. We'll have this done in twenty minutes top."

Mustang glanced a few times at the other as they worked, double checking and also feeling as though something was bugging him. He finally realized it when Edward reached up with a hand to sweep golden bangs from his face.

"You write with your left hand."

Edward looked up, a little bewildered, before returning to signing Mustang's name. "Yeah, what about it?"

"But you use your right for everything else and it's made of flesh now. Why do you still write with your left?"

"I don't know, I hadn't really noticed. I learned to write with my left hand a while ago, and I've just stuck with it."

"Was it hard to relearn all that? I never really asked before," he wondered sometimes if he should have asked more things, back when Edward would tell him the answers, or he would be able to read it on his face, or have Alphonse there to respond.

"It took some getting used to, sure. But I wasn't going to go forever not writing," he shrugged a shoulder and added his stack to the piles of completed work.

"Did you think it would be forever?"

"There, we're finished," Edward said, "Let that be a lesson to you about procrastination. I don't know how you can stand this all the time, Hawkeye." She came forward and helped to other two straighten the piles.

"I think the secretaries will be happy to have this all in now, sir."

"An excellent suggestion, Major. Send Havoc to get one of them, he always likes excuses to stretch his legs and poison his lungs." Mustang's subordinates grinned at this. "And drop by more often, Fullmetal, we can have more chats like this."

"No way, you just don't want to do your own work," Edward returned with a smirk.

"I guess I've been caught then."

"Sirs?" In the doorway stood a young Corporal who shifted nervously from foot to foot.

"What is it, Corporal?" Riza asked him.

"Well, I was looking for the Colonel. See, there's this little boy standing by the front desk, says he's looking for his 'Daddy'. We managed to get him to a side-room, but he won't go any further. And he has an envelope that he won't give to anyone but his 'Daddy'. But I thought I saw your surname on it, sir. Um…that's all."

Riza was sure her face mirrored the General's. It was a mixture of confusion, shock, and the first inklings of accusation. Edward's face started shocked, then slowly seemed to melt into that tiredness and resignation that until that moment he had kept at bay trapped behind gold eyes.

"I'll be there in a minute. Make sure he's comfortable," Edward sighed, and the soldier saluted and fled. He then turned to face them. "Go ahead," it wasn't a dare, it was simple acceptance.

"You're not married, and yet you have a _son_." Mustang said coldly.

"Is that a question or a statement?" He replied.

"A statement, of course!"

"So because I call Pinako 'Granny', I'm automatically her grandson?" Riza thought she saw a hint of that stubborn anger blaze in the younger man's face for a moment, but it settled into the low embers she had become accustomed to. Dying embers.

"So he's not your biological son?" She wanted that to be true, because the thought of Edward abandoning his own family like his father before hand almost caused her a strange non-physical pain.

"Later," he said, and then spoke again before either could protest, "my first priority is Van right now." And he left as quickly as the Corporal.

"Van?" Mustang called after him, receiving no answer. Riza could only place her head in her hands.

"Van."

OoO

They arrived in time to see Edward tackled by a massive hug from a young boy, with the same golden hair and eyes. It was amazing, really. And the child couldn't have been more than five or six.

"Daddy!" He cheered.

Edward sighed and seemed to look up to the ceiling for answers, as Riza knew he didn't pray, all the while patting the boy on the back.

"Van, what are you doing here?" He stood and brushed himself off as the boy answered.

"Granny and Mommy decided I should stay with you for awhile. Granny wrote you letter!" He held out the envelope, and sure enough it said 'Edward Elric' on the front in a steady hand.

"Uh-huh, what's your dad say about this?" Riza almost voiced her surprise out loud. Was Edward asking a question about himself? Yet it didn't seem that way.

"I dunno, what do you say?" Van responded with his own happy question.

"Van."

The little boy pouted a little and looked down at his shoes. "I dunno." Edward reached out and gripped the boy's shoulder reassuringly.

"Why don't you know?" He had managed to remove the frustration from his voice, and Van looked up again.

"Granny didn't ask him. He was asleep."

"I see. Let me read this then." Edward's eyes flicked over the page quickly, once and then again. Satisfied, he refolded it and placed the letter and its envelope in his pocket. "Nothing for it then. You'll have to stay with me for now." His face didn't look as certain as his voice sounded, and there seemed to be a severe lack of confidence in his actions as he ruffled the child's hair. Van didn't seem to notice, as he exclaimed,

"Yay!" and attached himself to his—Riza honestly didn't know what was going on—relation's leg.

"But," Edward said, holding up a finger in warning. "I am not your Dad. You're six years old now, Van; I don't buy people presents to get title upgrades." The last part flew over the boy's head, but he easily understood the rest.

"Yes, Uncle Edward."

In Riza's mind, it suddenly all made sense, and yet horribly so. For why would any son of Alphonse's give the name of 'Daddy' to anyone else? She had little time to contemplate, though because Edward was already talking again.

"I'm going to have to make a call. Hawkeye, please come with me. And, uhh, Fuery's good with dogs?" He glanced uncomfortably at the child still holding tight to his pant-leg.

OoO

"What happened?" Edward demanded as soon as the other end of the line was picked up. Whatever he was told didn't seem to please him. "Dammit, Pinako, this isn't going to make things better!" Riza might have considered admonishing him for language, but she was still reeling from this sudden reveal, and Fuery was preoccupying the boy in the outer office.

"I don't know the first thing about kids; I don't know anything about Van!" Edward continued. He listened, pacing in agitation. "It doesn't matter if he looks up to me," he finally replied, "he shouldn't even bother with me. Al's the one he's supposed to be looking up to. Sending Van to me isn't going to help that." He waited again as, presumably, the older woman spoke. "If he feels that way, it's my fault. But I still don't see—fine, fine, I'll keep him until things cool down. This is temporary though, you hear?" There was a very short pause, and he quickly said, "You're welcome," before placing the phone back with slight excessive force.

"Alphonse and Winry have a son named Van," she decided to clarify. He glanced up at her before nodding. "Then why does he refer to you as his father?"

Edward rubbed his temples. "I really don't have close to enough time to answer that question right now, I'm sorry. But I've got to figure out what I'm going to do with him while he's here."

"If you need a day off of work on Monday, I could arrange it with the General," she offered. Edward looked up again, and she could see the gratitude on his face.

"You're always helping me out, Hawkeye. You even waited before jumping down my throat about Van. I promise, I'll tell you everything, but just give me some time."

"Of course, Edward," she offered a true smile, and saw him and his new charge on their way out of the building. She couldn't help but worry about how Edward would fare trying to take care of his nephew.

**There you have it. At least a couple of you already guessed at Van's identity, but the real twists in Edward's past that started him on his eight-year journey are only starting to reveal themselves. I really want feedback on this chapter guys, so please review! Thanks for reading!**


	8. Chapter 8

**I'm over the moon! 30 reviews for 7 chapters? You guys rock, I love it!**

**Dobby's Polka-Dotted Sock**

**Chapter Seven:**

**Some Guidance, Please**

He was attempting to stay asleep for just a little longer when he sensed it; there was someone in his apartment other than him. Edward shot up lunged out with an arm and met air.

"Ahh!" Came the surprised yelp, and a thud. When Edward finally rubbed the sleep from his eyes, he saw Van on the floor nearby, where he had fallen on his backside from sheer surprise and terror.

"Shi—sorry!" He changed his mind midway, not wanting to frighten the boy any further. Edward threw the blanket off of himself and stood from the couch—then picked it back up to pull his arms through the sleeves. He was a feeling a little cold from his stay in the makeshift bed. Coat on, he knelt in front of Van, not really sure what to do aside from awkwardly patting his shoulder as the other calmed down. "My fault. What did you want?"

Van let out a shaky breath and said, "I'm hungry; Granny's usually made breakfast…" Edward glanced at the little clock he'd purchased along with other basic furnishings for his new home, and saw that it was late morning. He had not slept well that night, worried and angry and sad and _scared_, if he admitted it, which led to his sleeping in.

"Granny does everything in that house, does she?" He asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Yup!" Was the prompt answer, and it was then that Edward realized he was dealing with a human being that didn't have a single sarcastic gene in his make-up. Either that or things really were that bad in Resembool. He stood again and passed through the kitchen and dining room archway. Well, it had some counters and necessary appliances, with a small table placed out of the way under the window.

"Right," he said mostly to himself, trying to remember the last time he had bought groceries. "Let's see what we got." He winced at the near-empty refrigerator, but they were in luck; Edward had bought some eggs earlier in the week, and there were two left. "Do you eat eggs?" He asked, wishing not for the first time that Pinako had sent an instruction manual with the kid.

"Uh-huh," Van replied, already sitting in the one folding chair at the table.

"You can have those then. Water okay?"

"Can't I have milk?"

Edward slapped a hand to his forehead. "We're out."

"Oh, water's okay then." Van sat quietly until he watched Edward pull out a small pot and fill it with water. "That's not how you make scrambled eggs," he giggled a little at his pretend-father. Edward had the strangest look on his face.

"When did I say I was making scrambled eggs?" He didn't have a skillet, so he couldn't have possibly said that. Minutes later, when he placed the two perfectly fine boiled eggs in front of the boy, he was met with a scrunched-up nose.

"Why do they still look like that?" Van asked.

"They're cooked," he replied, "I just boiled them. Come on, I'm not Granny. I tend to specialize in the quick recipes."

"Okay," and the boy who had been so hungry he had disturbed Edward's sleep began to tentatively pick at his breakfast. He 'finished' ten minutes later, one and a half eggs—the majority of the other half having been left in a mutilated heap on the plate—left. "I'm full." He shyly pushed the plate towards the other. Edward gave an exasperated sigh.

"I guess I'll just finish these. I was planning on grabbing something out, but no point—"

Van's eyes had lit up, and he asked with excitement, "Can I have something to?"

"Oh for crying—fine, fine," Edward stuffed the eggs in his mouth, which were cold, and dumped the plate in the sink. He was definitely going to need that day off, he decided while brushing his teeth. And some advice. Who did he know that was good with little kids?

Could he ask her?

There weren't many other options, so he got himself and Van dressed, finding a change of clothes for the boy in the bag that came with him. Then he managed to actually leave the apartment, which was more difficult than he had first thought.

"Where are we going? Are we going to that big building again? The one where Mr. Simmons dropped me off?" Mr. Simmons was a farmer in Resembool who had been making a trip to Central and agreed to take Van there for Pinako. "That man with the glasses was nice, but he was really quiet. Who was the lady? She was pretty. When are we coming back here? Why is your house so tiny and in between a bunch of other houses?"

"Van," he finally ground out.

"Oh, sorry Da—Uncle Ed!" Edward took a minute to gather himself, then led the younger down the stairs and out of the building. People smiled as they passed, Van tugging on his arm to move faster, or hanging back as he watched all the traffic in awe. He cringed at the resemblance, and hated the conclusions they obviously drew. That everyone drew.

"Where are we going?" Van asked again, and this time gave Edward time to answer.

"We're visiting someone I know."

"Are they your friend?" That gave Edward some pause.

"Not exactly." He didn't even see how they could still be on friendly terms.

"So they're mean?" Van looked up with him with fear on his face. The child was still in that state of mind where people were either nice or mean, good or bad.

"No, no, she's…a friend." He decided to stick with simple for right now, he could try explaining the reality of the world later. In the present, Van cheered up immediately.

"Okay!"

"They walked up the steps of the townhouse and Edward hesitated before ringing the bell. No one answered for a minute and Edward considered grabbing Van by the arm and leaving, but then the door swung open.

"Hello, uhh," The young girl tilted her head to the side in confusion, her single blonde ponytail swinging with the movement. Then her eyes sparked with recognition. "Edward?"

"Hi Elysia, how's everything?" He felt nervous, this wasn't the innocent child he had met some time ago. Elysia had to be at least ten, if he remembered correctly, and probably closer to twelve.

"It is you! Everything's, um, great," she was looking curiously at Van, who stared back in equal interest. "Did you want to see Mom?" She called Gracia 'Mom' now?

"Yes, if that's convenient."

"Okay, follow me. Mom!" Elysia led them into the sitting room, and Edward heard Gracia's reply.

"What is it, sweetie?"

"Someone wants to see you!"

"Alright, I'll be just a minute." Gracia entered the room soon after, drying her hands on a dishtowel. She, at least, looked near the same. A little calmer now than when he last saw her though. Thinking of that meeting made him slightly uncomfortable, so instead he smiled at her.

"Edward! It's been so long, how are you? I heard you came back to Central, but not much else. Who is this?" She looked with a kind smile at Van, who shyly returned it.

"Hi, my name is Van Elric." Edward's face struggled not to turn into a grimace at her surprise. Elysia's eyes even went a little wide. "I'm visiting my—" Van turned his head to meet Edward's eyes, and finished, "uncle."

"Oh, I see," Gracia said, still with some shock. She hid it well from the kid, though. "Well, welcome to Central. Are you excited to be here?"

"You bet!" Edward tried to recall a time when answering a question made him so cheerful.

"Alphonse got _married_?" Elysia asked, seeming to have some distaste for the word.

"Yeah, he did." Her face, which was thinner from having lost most of the baby-fat, blanched.

"Ew, marriage is gross. Cause guys are stupid." Edward didn't feel too offended.

"What?" Van said, his eyes nearly tearing up. That caused Edward to remove his hat briefly simply to pass an irritated hand over his hair.

"Elysia, you shouldn't be rude," her mother admonished. "How about you take Van to the kitchen and you can share those cookies I made yesterday." Van brightened immediately as a slightly annoyed twelve year-old led him to the promised food, and Edward tried not to think about his charge having cookies for breakfast. "I'm sorry," Gracia turned back to him after sighing at her daughter's behavior. "I try to teach her not to say such things, but she won't listen to me about it anymore. I'm almost dreading her teenage years."

"Don't worry about that, I'm sure you'll figure it out. I actually came here to ask for some advice."

"Oh? Sit down, please." Once they were settled, he began.

"Van was sent here…for more than just a visit. I'd rather not talk about it, but he's going to be here for awhile, I'm not really sure how long."

"I see," she said, frowning a little in concern, but not asking for details. He was glad for that.

"At any rate, I honestly have no idea what I'm doing. I don't know how to take care of kids!" He allowed a bit of his helplessness to show on his face.

"It's alright, I can imagine that you'd be unprepared. The best thing I could tell you is to be very patient. Children can be a handful, but they need time to learn and grow. Keep a level head and try to be positive and encouraging. I'm sure you'll do fine, you practically raised Alphonse."

"At this point, I'm not sure whether we could count that as a success," he murmured, propping his head up with one arm. "But anyway, what about schooling? He's six, they go to school then, right?"

She laughed a little at this and replied, "In Central, they do. I can give you the number of the public school. I'm sure enrolling him will be no problem. And he could even walk there with some of my friends' sons, since you go to work early in the military." They didn't comment on how she knew that. "Just take it day by day, and if you have any questions, don't hesitate to stop by. Elysia and I would love to have you over."

He felt a little more confident now, and stood up to shake her hand. "Thank you so much, Gracia." She got paper and a pen, and wrote down the number of the school.

"Here, and it was no problem. Taking care of a child is a big responsibility and I'm glad you're being serious about it." She paused, and decided to say it. "Maes would be so proud, I'm sure of it."

He bowed his head under the weight of familiar sadness and guilt. "I hope so."

When the two of them left, Van continued to chatter happily about his new friend. "Elysia is really nice, and smart! Her mommy makes good cookies! And she said I'm not _that_ bad for a boy!"

"Wow, you're making leaps and bounds with her," he couldn't quite stop the sarcasm that slipped into his tone, but Van was oblivious once again.

"Yeah!"

OoO

After a day of shopping, to stock up the refrigerator, to get some more clothes and school supplies for Van—who was quite thrilled to be going to school—and calling the public school to enroll him, all Edward really wanted to do was sit on his couch and read. But first he had to put Van to bed.

It turned out that yesterday's sleepiness was a fluke brought on by the train ride. Now, the little boy was as energized as he had been all day.

"Please go to sleep?" He tried, but Van pouted and said he didn't want to. "Why not?" He asked incredulously, trying to keep in mind what Gracia had said. Be patient, he had to be patient. He could do this; he'd worked on his temper and could control it quite well, thank you. Van had been an unanticipated stumbling block in his attempt to have a normal life, but it wasn't his fault. He must resist the tempting urge to transmute the covers into the bed to prevent escape.

"I'm not sleepy," came the simple answer, and Edward pinched the bridge of his nose again.

"You've got to at least try, Van. What might make you ready for bed?"

"Well, Granny sometimes tells me a story," the boy offered.

He thought this over for a minute. "A story, huh? About what?"

"About alchemists that save people! I like those stories. Alchemy's really cool, like when you fixed the roof last time!" More and more, whenever Edward had stopped by for the briefest of time, Pinako would ask him to repair something that she simply couldn't at her age. The roof, the floor, the porch. He had made sure to stop by at least once every few months if he could manage it just to make sure the house didn't fall in on them.

"Okay, stories about alchemy. Let's see…well, a wandering alchemist—"

"Once upon a time," Van reminded him helpfully.

"Once upon a time, a wandering alchemist came across a town in a distant land…" He had barely reached the part where the kind widow had been the one kidnapping the young girls—she'd been killing them, actually, but Edward was a genius for a reason—to try and save them from the misery of losing a husband, when Van yawned and snuggled into the covers, a sleepy smile on his face.

"Thanks Daddy, that was as great as Granny's stories," Edward didn't want to wake him, and let the false title go. He felt as though he was supposed to do something, pat the kid on the head, he didn't know, but instead stood, turned off the light, and shut the door of his former bedroom behind him.

And now he didn't even feel in the mood to read. Edward couldn't help the despair he felt. All day, and even yesterday afternoon it was Granny does this, Granny does that. Why was it never Mommy? Why was it never Daddy? Why was Alphonse never on his son's mind?

Somehow he managed to find sleep that night, however fitful.

**There you are, some more development of Van! I really enjoyed writing the interaction between him and Ed and I honestly don't know why. Gracia, and Elysia somewhat as well, will probably show up some more. I really want feedback on this chapter, so let me know what you thought! Thanks for reading, and don't forget to review!**


	9. Chapter 9

**Wow, I actually went a whole day without updating. I was out of the house almost the whole time, so that might explain it. Anyway, here's the next chapter. Also, as I said in the Author's Note of the prologue, Ed has the ability to do alchemy in this story. Sorry if you've been confused!**

**Dobby's Polka-Dotted Sock.**

**Chapter Eight:**

**Getting Settled, and Getting Ready**

Van was becoming a regular fixture in Edward's office during the afternoons. The boy was making some friends in school, but Edward did not feel comfortable asking their parents to watch him well into the evening. So while Edward worked, Van would sit on the other side of the desk and fill out the little worksheet he was given for homework, and then wander around the room, occasionally causing on of the others to pause in what they were doing so they could answer a question. One particularly amusing day saw Van curled up in the visitor's chair of Edward's office, holding an old alchemy book up and slowly trying to read it.

"An al-ca-mist—"

"Al_chem_ist, Van," Edward corrected without looking up.

"Yeah, alchemist. An alchemist uses the elements around him- Uncle Ed?"

"Hm?"

"What're elements?"

"Elements. Well, elements are what things are made up of. It's very complicated, but water, for example, is made up of two parts hydrogen and one part oxygen."

"Oh, okay."

"You're good?"

"Yeah."

Edward was able to go back to work for about thirty seconds before Van asked, "What's hydrogen?"

Riza had extreme difficulty in hiding her smile.

OoO

The next day Sheska found Edward Elric browsing through an entirely different section of the library than usual. "Um, Edward, can I help you?" She asked. The other turned towards her and seemed to be debating what to say.

"I'm trying to find something he'll understand. I mean, he sort of gets alchemy, but everything I own is way too complicated; I barely understood it when I was his age, at least before I trained under teacher." Sheska tried not to laugh, but a little giggle escaped, which she immediately smothered under Edward's confused and slightly hurt look.

"I'm sorry, Edward. It's just, this library's meant for adults, not children. You'll need to look in the public library for books Van would really understand."

"Right," he said, scratching the back of his neck in embarrassment. "Should have figured that out. But I don't know where that is, Sheska, could you give me directions or something?"

"I could help you two look for something over the weekend, if you want." She volunteered, and was meant with a grateful smile.

"Thanks, we'll see you this Saturday, then!"

OoO

"Hi, Uncle Ed! Hi, Lieutenant Havoc!" Van ran up to his uncle waiting by the car, while Havoc remained in the driver's seat. Since Edward didn't own a car, and had never bothered to get a license, Havoc would drive the other over to the school during their lunch break to pick Van up, and the three would then return to the office.

"Hey, squirt," Havoc responded with a lazy grin. "How was school?"

"It was great!" The child enthused, while he climbed into the back. Edward slid back into the passenger seat. "Danny and I got an A+ on the test, and I saw Elysia at lunch!"

"Did you, now?" Havoc's eyes flickered away from the rearview mirror, and instead fixed Edward with a mischievous grin. "Elysia's really something else, huh?"

"Yeah! She's really nice to me, too!"

"Great!" Havoc replied.

"Oh boy," Edward muttered, hoping that wherever he was, Maes Hughes would elect not to haunt him forever. "What's your favorite class?" He asked to steer the conversation away from the Hughes girl, and shot a warning look at the driver. Havoc pouted, but seemed interested to hear Van's response as well.

"I like them all! But, I like science and gym a lot, we get to play all kinds of sports in gym!"

They made it back to Headquarters and found it a bustle of activity. Soldiers and office workers alike managed to spare the usual warm smiles for the little boy, and Edward tried not to think about how his life had become a show yet again, and instead stopped the nearest orderly.

"What's going on?"

"Oh, the Führer and the Xingese Emperor have set the date for his visit. It's next Thursday!" The man rushed off then, muttering something about a mop.

"Oh boy," Edward said yet again. Havoc nudged him in the elbow.

"Hey, shouldn't you be more excited? I thought you and the Emperor were friends?"

"Being friends with Ling is almost more aggravating than being his enemy. And trust me, I've been both."

"I don't think him being half-Homunculi counts, Chief," Havoc replied quietly as they wove through the people. Van started to fall behind, so Edward paused to lift him onto his back. They continued to the office.

"Sir, General Mustang would like to see you about the Emperor's impending visit." Edward sighed.

"Of course. Major, could you watch Van for—"

"I'm afraid I've been asked to oversee cleanup of the south wing, sir," Hawkeye interrupted apologetically.

"Alright, I guess I'll find someone who isn't busy enough on the way." He glanced into different offices on his way to the General's, but everyone looked either buried under work, or stressed to the limit. Finally he came upon Armstrong's door. "Anybody in?" He called, poking his head around the doorframe.

"Over here, Edward," Maria called from her desk.

"You don't look as panicked as everyone else," he commented, entering the office proper.

"Hi, Lieutenant Ross," Van said over his shoulder.

"Hi, Van, how was school? No, we're not that busy. The Colonel's only been put in charge of organizing a Ball to be held at the Armstrong Manor, in honor of the Emperor."

"School was great! We're having a party?" Van asked. Maria laughed a little.

"Yes, Van, but it's a very fancy party. You have to get all dressed up in a suit and dance."

"A suit?" Van asked, but Edward decided to interrupt this little conversation for the moment.

"Listen, if you're not too busy, could you watch him for me? I have to go talk to Mustang." Maria smiled in understanding.

"Of course, it'll be a pleasure."

"Alright, Van, just stay with the Lieutenant for now, ok?"

"Ok." Van slid off his back and trotted over to the Lieutenant's desk while Edward turned and continued on his way.

OoO

"We know the Emperor is likely to bring a few guards, I believe you know at least one of them well," Mustang said. Edward nodded, even though he was somewhat familiar with a couple of Ling's other bodyguards, but Lan Fan the only one he considered a friend. "We think he might bring another of his court, it's proper for him to bring his own guest to the Ball. I'm almost positive it will be the princess of the Chang Clan, Mei. She's familiar with the area and knows the language well."

"Right," Edward agreed. Mei was also the most interested in Amestris out of Ling's many siblings.

"Well," Mustang hesitated, but then said, "I would like to ask whether it would be possible for you to invite Alphonse to Central for the duration of her stay. It's no secret she's fond of him, and his presence might make the negotiations seem more favorable." Here Mustang paused again at the look on Edward's face. It seemed both surprised and nervous.

"I…I'm afraid I can't do that."

"Why not, Fullmetal?"

"I—let's just say Alphonse isn't in the business of doing me favors anymore."

"You've had a falling out? Over what?" Mustang asked, and Edward didn't know what to say. "Is it Van?" The blond looked up sharply at the other. "There's obviously something the matter, Edward. When a kid would rather call his uncle his father, something's not right at home."

"Just—don't worry about Alphonse, it's not going to make a difference if he comes or not."

"We would have liked to see him," Mustang commented, and Edward knew the other man was referring to the team as a whole.

"I know," he said, "but I don't know if—well, it's just not going to happen. We don't really talk."

OoO

Maria Ross looked up at the knock on her door and waved Major Hawkeye in. "What brings you here, Major?"

The other woman responded, "I've finished overseeing initial cleanup of the south wing and was looking for the Colonel's nephew. I thought to bring him back to the office so he wouldn't worry."

"Is Uncle Ed done with his meeting?" Van asked excitedly, looking up from the drawing he was coloring. It looked like two people, one taller than the other, holding hands. Though not the most brilliant piece of artwork, both women could easily tell who was in the drawing.

"Not yet, Van, but he most likely will be soon. Would you like to go back now?" She asked.

"Yeah, I finished coloring!" The little boy wrote something on the bottom of the page with a crayon, stopped, pouted a little, crossed part of it out and wrote something else. Van clambered to his feet and held the drawing up. "Do you think he'll like it, Lieutenant Ross?"

The picture was now labeled 'Me and Uncle Ed', though the crossed out letter suspiciously looked like the word 'Daddy'. Riza managed to keep the smile on her face as the other replied, "I think he will, Van."

"Okay!" Van hurried over to Riza, but she stopped him for a minute.

"Tell the Lieutenant 'Thank you', Van."

"Oh, right. Thank you, Lieutenant Ross!"

"You're welcome, stop by anytime," she responded.

Van held onto Riza's sleeve as they maneuvered through the gradually thinning crowds. "Major Hawkeye, why's everyone so excited about an Emp-rer?"

"That's 'Emperor', Van," she corrected gently. "An Emperor is another title for ruler. He is the leader of Xing, the country next to ours, and we would like to make a good impression when he visits so that we can have friendly relations between our countries."

"That's good, having friends is nice," Van reasoned, and Riza couldn't help the smile spreading across her face.

"Yes it is." They returned to the office, and Van hurried into his uncle's inner office after greeting the other men. When Riza caught up with him, Van was attempting to use the tape. "What are you doing, Van?" She asked curiously.

"Major Hawkeye, can I put my drawing on the wall?" She looked from the hopeful boy to the blank wall. It was against army regulations to put tape directly on the wall, but Edward's office was so bare. And she realized how much it would mean to Van.

"Of course," she decided, and even helped secure the colorful page to the wall. She organized some things absentmindedly on the desk while Van watched from his customary position in the visitor's chair. "Van?" She finally asked.

"Uh-huh?" His short legs swung back and forth as he locked eyes with her.

"Why do you wish Edward was your father?" All the while as she said it, she realized she shouldn't be asking. It wasn't polite. But she couldn't stop the worry she felt for the little boy.

"Well, Uncle Ed's really nice, and he gets me presents for my birthday, and he tells me stories when I ask him to, an' he makes food, and- and a lot of other stuff!" Van listed with a wide smile.

"And Alphonse doesn't do those things?" Van's smile seemed to falter slightly, but he seemed to be thinking long and hard about what to say.

"Well, Granny does 'em for my Daddy. She likes doing them, so he lets her," he seemed pretty sure of this explanation, but Riza couldn't stop herself from wondering if Mrs. Rockbell did the things for Van _because_ Alphonse was not, for some reason.

"But, what about your mother? She must do some things for you."

"Oh yeah, Mommy sometimes helps me get dressed, an' she keeps my hair from getting messy. But, she's always really quiet. Are all Mommy's quiet? Elysia's Mommy says a lot of stuff."

Riza didn't know what to tell him. Winry Rockbell had always had something on her mind, something to say when she knew the girl. "Well, mothers help fathers take care of you. They work together to raise you, and they're each others closest companion."

"So Mommy's and Daddy's are really good friends?"

"Yes, that's right," Riza said, not sure if she was the best expert on explaining families, but she couldn't really go back now. "Together you make up a family and you do things together."

"Like what?"

"Well, let's see, you all live together, and you can go out to- to see a movie or something? Or go out to town together." She was pretty sure Resembool had a least a small market place; at least, Riza remembered spotting some shops when she and the General had made that trip all those years ago.

"Oh! Like how Miss Sheska is coming with us on Saturday?" Van looked proud of himself for making such a connection.

"She is?" Riza's words were laced with surprise.

"Yeah, Uncle Ed's taking me to the library, and he invited Miss Sheska. She's a real nice lady."

"Yes, Sheska is. Very nice."

"Hey Chief!" She heard Havoc say from the outer office, and Edward said something back. He then pushed open the door of his office.

"Oh, Hawkeye, Maria said you'd brought Van back. Thanks," he smiled, but then his eyes seemed to be drawn to the sidewall, where Van's picture still hung.

"Hi, Uncle Ed! Do you like my picture?"

"Uh, yeah. You drew that for me?" Somehow, Edward still seemed shocked by Van's shows of affection. Then again, he had never seemed to get used to the idea that people liked him.

"Uh-huh. Do we get to go home now? I'm hungry." Edward rolled his eyes, but the smile was back.

"Yeah, I finished my work this morning. Unless there's anything else for me, Major?" He turned his golden eyes on her, and Riza had to glance back at the desk just to make sure.

"No sir, the men took care of it since you had your meeting."

"Okay then, I'll be here Monday morning."

"Of course, sir." She followed them as far as the outer office, as Edward thanked the other men and bid them a good weekend.

"Something the matter, Hawkeye?" Breda asked with a furrowed brow at his silent co-worker.

"I should check on the General, he probably needs something," she said allowed, and left the office.

**So Ling's going to be making another appearance, along with his faithful Lan Fan, and sister Mei! I just love writing Edward and Ling interacting too much. Honestly, even though they were both probably going to die, I could not stop laughing through the whole 'Gluttony's Stomach' scene in the manga. Thanks for sticking with this story guys, the number of reviews, alerts, and favorites blows me away. Let me know what you think of this chapter!**


	10. Chapter 10

**40 reviews? I—I don't even know what to say. So, I'll just type another chapter for you all out of sheer joy!**

**Dobby's Polka-Dotted Sock**

**Chapter Nine:**

**Doubt**

"What about this one Miss Sheska? Have you ever read it?" Van held up a reasonably sized book with a red cover. Sheska took it from his hand and squinted at the title.

"My mother read it to me when I was a little girl. It's a book of fairytales, I think you might like it." She smiled down at the boy as he took it back and turned it over in his hands.

"Does it have adventure?"

"Of course."

"And alchemy?"

"Hm, I think there might be one or two stories in there…" Sheska's brilliant memory came to her then, and she said, "Yes, yes there are."

"Great! Can I have it, Uncle Ed?" Van turned to the left where Edward had been following, but he seemed to have disappeared.

"Edward?" Sheska called.

"Huh?" The response came from a few shelves back. Edward must have gotten caught up in the science section they had passed. Sheska led Van back a bit, and found the young man looking around for them. "Oh, there you went," he said, and Van giggled while she hid a smile behind her hand.

"Van's a little interested in this one," she passed the book from nephew to uncle, and Edward flipped a couple of the pages.

"Ok, if that's what you want," Edward said, shrugging his shoulders at the boy.

"Yay!" Van cheered, then seemed to think of something. "Have you ever read it before?"

"Can't say I have," Edward replied, "we didn't really have a library in Resembool."

"What?" Sheska blurted, and then turned a little red at her outburst.

"I may not seem it, but I'm about as country as Havoc," Edward smirked. "I just don't persist in constantly chewing on a cigarette like a piece of straw."

"We can read it together, then, right?" Van asked, bringing them back to the matter at hand.

"Sure," Edward told him, and after the adults had each found a couple books they wanted, the three had them checked out. This was after Sheska helped Edward sign up for a library card of course, a bit of a novelty to him.

"Can we have lunch now?" Van asked.

"Is every other question you ask about food?" Edward was more amused than anything. "Yeah, alright."

"Let's go!" Van tugged on his uncle's sleeve and said, "C'mon, Miss Sheska!"

"Oh, I don't have nearly enough—" she started to say.

"I can make up the difference," Edward offered, and Sheska knew that it was a purely friendly gesture. And yet she knew how everyone else would interpret it, socially unaware as she was compared to most.

"Oh no, I couldn't possibly. Anyway, I haven't even visited my mother yet this weekend, and they close early on Sunday. Thank you though. Have a good weekend, you two!" And she turned in the opposite direction and quickly left, though she was going in against the flow of the crowd.

"Okay then," Edward said, while Van called,

"Tell your Mommy we said hi!"

She knew it was abrupt, and she knew that maybe she had thrown something away, something that could have been; that maybe could still be. But Sheska also knew behind those golden eyes were a world of pain, and she wasn't sure she could be strong enough to weather through the storm to reach the very human Edward underneath. Being friends with the younger man was almost difficult enough at times.

OoO

Another companion of Edward's arrived that week with all the pomp and circumstance one would expect of a Royal Emperor. Edward watched, standing slightly behind Mustang, as Ling disembarked from his carriage. Mei Chang, nearly a grown woman graceful and divine as any princess, fell in beside him and Lan Fan was by her master's elbow at the ready for any command. Führer Grumman stepped forward and reciprocated the bow given him by the Emperor, before shaking his hand as was the Amestrian custom. The two leaders talked quietly as they moved inside Headquarters and most everyone followed at a safe distance.

Edward stood locked in place for a moment as a pair of eyes slid past, ones that usually stayed almost closed but shone for a moment with some emotion. And he expected as soon as the initial meeting between Emperor Yao and Führer Grumman was over, he would be summoned.

He could not help the apprehension. Ling knew everything. Or at least most of it; the rest could easily be inferred.

Lieutenant Colonel Elric paced yet more nervous circles into his carpet as his subordinates watched with no small amount of concern.

"What do you reckon is eating at him?" Havoc wondered aloud.

"I don't know, but something about the Emperor being here is making him jumpy," Breda answered.

"Maybe something happened between them when the Chief visited?" Fuery suggested.

"If that's the case something's happened between Ed and nearly every one of his former friends," Breda pointed out. General Mustang had of course told them of the conversation between the two alchemists. Not much could be gleaned from it, aside from the fact that Alphonse was angry at his brother, while Edward was not. Eight years ago, any one of them would have told whoever said that to switch the names around, they obviously had it wrong. But until Alphonse Elric showed his face around Central again, nothing would be certain to them.

The superior was pulling out his watch yet again when Hawkeye entered.

"The General and Emperor Yao wish to see you, sir," She said and Edward dropped the watch and fumbled catching it, yanking it up from the floor by the chain.

"Right," he stowed the silver timepiece in his pocket and nodded, before sighing. "What's the time?"

"About a quarter to two, sir," Falman answered promptly.

"Thanks Falman," Edward said and muttered under his breath, "This better be quick." He followed the Major out of the office, and if he noticed the other's eyes on his back he did not comment.

OoO

"I'm hurt, Edward, I truly am," Ling even sniffed for dramatic effect. Deadpan as ever, Lan Fan offered His Royal Highness a handkerchief, which he waved off. "Over five—no, it's been six years, and no letter, no call, no visit. One would almost say you did not wish to be my friend any longer."

"You think that's bad, try eight years," Mustang said from behind his desk and ignored Edward's scowl.

"I'm sorry, alright; I was a little preoccupied—"

"I told you, did I not? I warned you it would do no good to go back to that place you call a home and try and make amends with some bitter dru—"

"Not another word, Ling."

"Excuse me if they're not the ones you want to hear, but someone's got to set you straight. Your stubbornness is the one trait I could never cure. It seems it runs in the family."

"_Ling_."

"Brother, I think that will do most nicely. The point the Emperor is trying to make is that we were worried. I'm sure your friends here were, as well," Mei said quietly.

"None of you had to," he pointed out.

Mustang gave a sort of derisive snort. "I don't even totally know what's going on here, but I can understand most of what they're saying, Fullmetal. You don't have to live out your life alone, you know."

"What do you want me to say? Tell me, and I'll say it."

"Well, for starters, how are you?" Ling asked, and Edward knew it wasn't simple pleasantries.

"I'm fine," he said anyway, and even Lan Fan gave a disapproving look behind her mask.

"You honestly have nothing better?" He even added a royally plucked eyebrow raise to it. Edward turned away and happened to catch the clock out of the corner of his eye.

"Well, to tell the truth, I'm a little agitated. I'd rather not spend my workday being interrogated, and I'm going to be late in five minutes, so if you'll excuse me—"

"Late for what?" Ling asked.

"Havoc's already got the car out front by now, and you know where I go every day, sir," Edward looked over at Mustang and the other man sighed in defeat.

"Alright, you're dismissed. Go pick up Van from school." Edward winced with his hand on the doorknob, and resisted to urge to turn around and glare at his commanding officer as he would have in earlier days.

"Van?" Mei asked curiously, "Is that—"

"Yes; despite it all, something positive has come out of this whole mess that is my life. Are you happy, Ling? Good, I will see you some other time, then." He barely managed to stop himself from slamming the door.

OoO

He took another swig as he paged listlessly through the book he'd checked out that Saturday. It wasn't really keeping his attention, his mind was too consumed with his thoughts. He barely even registered the now-familiar tug at his sleeve.

"Uncle Ed?"

He slowly turned from the desk and his eyes landed on Van, freshly bathed and dressed in pajamas. He held the red book tightly to his chest. "What?" He asked, voice a bit gruffer than he thought it would be.

"Could-could you maybe read me another stor—" Van's little eyes caught on the bottle set beside the book and he instinctively backed away a few steps. "Nevermind, I'll—" his voice cut off with a squeak, and Edward shook his head at his own actions. What was he doing?

"Yeah," he replied. "Yeah, just get into bed and I'll read you one." He stood from the desk, taking the bottle to the kitchen, where he dumped the remaining contents down the drain. The aftertaste in his mouth suddenly felt disgusting and by the time he had finished brushing his teeth, Van was snug under the covers with the book resting on the little dresser.

"Ok," he turned a few pages and randomly stopped when he got to a title. "Once upon a time…" Van didn't say anything about hearing this story before, and Edward couldn't seem to add the same enthusiasm to it as usual. Soon enough, the child's eyes were closed and he shut the door on the room, returning to the desk.

He stood there awhile, palms resting on the wood surface, head down staring at the top littered with papers and books and pens, but not seeing them. He longed to break the quiet.

"Al?" He asked in a hoarse whisper. He tried again, a little louder. "Alphonse?" His voice cracked and died at the end, something he had thought impossible at this point in his life. "He's so much like you. The kindest little boy I've met in a long, long time." His voice came and went, wavering a little and refusing to obey the feeble commands he sent it. "And I hate myself. Because I know if I had to pick, I'd still choose you."

A loud knock sounded on the door, and his eyes went wide while a hand shot up to fist in his shirt right over his pounding heart. His damnable words suddenly echoed too loud in the inerasable past.

It was Hawkeye at the door. Somehow he didn't feel surprised.

"Hi, may I come in?" She asked quietly, assuming correctly that Van was asleep. Edward felt glad he had brushed his teeth.

"Yes, of course," she followed him into the front room, and she tentatively sat on the couch, shifting the little quilt he had finally dug out over to make room. He stood before her, unsure of what to do.

"I-I just wanted to make sure you were alright," she explained. "You seemed a little troubled at the office."

"I'm—fine." He choked out.

"Is there anything you want to talk about? I, um, I've been told that I'm a good listener." She looked at him neither demanding nor judging, only waiting. Hawkeye was always waiting.

"Maybe, just some things," he acquiesced, pulling the chai from the desk over to sit down.

"I'm all ears," she said simply.

**And with that, I wait for all of your angry reviews! Sorry, I hate cliffhangers, too, but this chapter would be really long if I didn't finish it now. That section between Ed and Van in the last part, up until Hawkeye's knock was unplanned. I just sort of typed it. Oddly enough, I teared up a little as I did so, and I'm pretty sure that's never happened to me. I'm probably putting too much stock in my abilities as a writer, but I hope you liked it. Let me know what you think. Also, if you noticed in the summary, the final pairing is still undecided; this story isn't all about Ed's love life, but I would like some feedback so I can proceed with the story. Your opinions matter greatly to me. Thanks so far for reading and all your feedback, and please review! **


	11. Chapter 11

**So many reviews, it just makes me smile the whole day thinking about it. I figured you all would want an update ASAP, so here it is.**

**Dobby's Polka-Dotted Sock**

**Chapter Ten:**

**Some Weight Off the Chest**

Riza was not in the business of lying to herself; when he had opened the door, Edward looked a wreck. Why did he have to worry so much about how others would react to his perceived failures, to the point that he tore himself up inside?

Roy had been like this once, so afraid to let anyone see his pain; but his pain had been shared amongst all the soldiers of the Ishbalan Campaign, and so he had opened himself up to her, a fellow sufferer and cause of suffering. With the rebuilding of Ishbal, the nightmares and regrets came less frequently, and they didn't need each others comfort so much anymore.

She knew that Edward was experiencing something vastly different from anything she was familiar with, but she was resolved to try and help him. For his sake, and for Van and his family. Something was not right in Resembool.

Edward studied his clasped hands for a long moment, and she dared not make a sound for fear he would withdraw again. "I'm sure Mustang's talked to you all by now, and I don't know what Ling told you when I left."

"He told us that he wanted to talk to you, not gossip about you," she informed him, and saw his eyes widen for just a moment. She honestly hadn't expected such a mature and loyal answer either, but Ling must truly value his friendship with the other.

"Anyway, it's true that Alphonse and I haven't really been speaking much," he confirmed, "but it wasn't about Van. Not at first anyway," he amended, and then removed his hat to rest his head in both hands properly. She waited with practiced patience, this was far too important to rush through.

"I made a mistake." He glanced up then, as if expecting some form of agreement to be displayed upon her face, but she remained impassive. "It was very stupid, and foolish, of me, but I didn't think. I didn't stop to consider I could be wrong."

"About what?" She prompted softly while he hesitated, teetering on the edge of the reveal. His eyes swept the room, looking for some way to say the words that couldn't quite find there way out. His eyes finally lit upon a closed door, and he turned back to her.

"You know in those storybooks how the hero comes home after the battle and lives 'happily ever after' or whatever it is?" She nodded. "Well, what if there's two heroes? How do they decide who gets what at the end? The victor's spoils." Her face remained mostly blank, but behind it, a slow realization was dawning. Edward seemed to simply rise from the chair in a gust of nervousness and agitation, walking around the room in slow paced, measured circles, sounding as though a professor giving a lecture.

"They don't—didn't. Nothing was set in stone. And slowly we drifted apart. He spent his days out in the fields, feeling the grass under his feet, the sun on his skin, everything was new," a warm smile of remembrance graced his features before slipping behind a cloud like the sun he described. Even his eyes seemed duller. "And I would wander around the east, spending days in different inns, before coming back to rest in peaceful Resembool. Everyone wanted the Fullmetal Alchemist to visit their town, fix their City Hall, build a barn, you name it. I gladly did it; so full of accomplishment they were easy tasks, and the travel hardly seemed burdensome when it was at my own leisure. I thought perhaps a year or so of that life and it would be over."

"It might seem hard to believe, Hawkeye, but when I signed up for the military I always expected to resign at a young age and return to my home. I really thought I could simply walk away from it all and live an ordinary existence. In hindsight, it really is naive."

"It sounds like a wonderful idea," she told him and he nodded.

"Ever since that first awful sin though, I've just been instilled with—well, I have always been restless, I can see that now. A wanderer, who is never content to just let things lie," he slumped against the wall, needing the support. "I tried so desperately those two years, Hawkeye, I wanted that little life. And I thought I had the perfect solution, something that would keep me grounded there for the rest of my days. But I had no idea Alphonse had the same one. Without knowing it, we were both revolving around the same sun."

"Winry," she said, wishing she wasn't so sure of the answer. His bowed head only confirmed it.

"I had no idea, really. I thought our childhood fight over her was over," he chuckled, but it was humorless. "I'm the best example of Icarus to ever live. One day our little dance around each other ended when I flew in too close, and I got caught with my hand reaching for the cookie jar."

Riza could only imagine the explosion that would have followed, even from Alphonse.

"I underestimated the temper capable of an Elric that day, and got worse than burned. Frankly I was confused and frightened for my life, so I folded, if you will. Left my cards and chips on the table and got the hell out of there."

"And you two haven't spoken since?" She asked, wondering how Alphonse could possibly be that angry for so long.

"Not much," he said, a little evasive, but she was happy to have gotten this much out of him. "He still seems to think the game's still going, and I don't know how to make him understand he won."

"Maybe you need to figure out why he thinks he hasn't won," she suggested, still trying to digest everything. His tired eyes strayed toward the shut door again, but he didn't speak for a long time.

"Thanks," he said finally. "I, I really did need to say that. But, don't worry too much, right?" He somehow managed to feel concerned about her through it all, which left Riza amazed.

"I'll worry as much as I want to, but not too much. Worry doesn't help solve problems, Edward." She offered him a smile and stood. It was getting incredibly late, and they were both expected at work early the next morning. He followed her to the door.

"Thank you," he said again.

"It's not any trouble. Just try and sleep, I'm sure we'll both be spending time with the Emperor and his companions.

"Don't remind me," he grimaced, but some of the usual humor was starting to return.

"Goodnight, Edward."

"Goodnight, Hawkeye."

**Yeah, really short, and mostly just Ed monologue-ing, but like I said, I wanted to get this out to you guys. I also figured this might be how it happened because number one, he's super stressed and finally needs to just vent, and number two he has been drinking some which is affecting him more than usual at the time because of his emotional state. Also, Hawkeye is an awesome listener, I'd probably spill my guts to her even if there was absolutely nothing wrong with me. Edward's still holding back some though, and we still have some ways to go. Let me know what you think, and if your ideas were anywhere close, I'd love to hear from you. Thanks for reading, and review! **


	12. Chapter 12

**You guys thought that was a fast update? ….I have a problem. Oh well!**

**Dobby's Polka-Dotted Sock**

**Chapter Eleven:**

**Pressed Buttons**

"So, from the rumors Lan Fan has brought me, I suppose you will be taking the librarian to the Armstrongs' Ball?"

Edward rapidly inhaled, choked on, and then spit out the expensive imported tea being served to him at the Emperor's guest manor. Ling politely offered him a napkin and once he was finished hacking he leveled a cold look at the other man. "Did you have her do a background check on me or something?"

"No, I am merely curious. If we are to be friends then I must know what is currently going on in your life. You can read about mine in the newspaper." Edward sighed and waved off Lan Fan's quiet apology.

"Alright. But how about hearing it from me first, hm? There's nothing to be rumored about; I needed someone to show me the public library, and Sheska was obviously the best candidate." He raised an eyebrow at Ling's smile.

"How fortunate for you that at times you are incapable of viewing the world through heart-shaped lenses, however smashed the lenses had to become first. A less sensible man might have gotten the wrong idea from his female friend."

"I like to keep mistakes to one-time occurrences, thanks."

"If that's the case who do you plan to take with you? Your days of simply living at the palace have been lost to history, it seems," Ling barely glanced at him, but Edward knew that look. Perhaps he had been nearly purged of his Greed, but Ling always wished to be in control. Edward knew how it pained the black-haired man that one of his friends was not safe and in good spirits at all times. That he had failed to make Edward stay, where he felt the other could heal. But Edward hadn't been interested in simply living as an exile, comfortable as it was. He still wasn't.

"I can go stag, thank you. I probably won't even be there that long; Gracia can't keep Van overnight." He saw Ling sigh, and waited for the other's remark.

"Yes, remind me why you have been saddled with your _brother's_ problem? If I recall, everyone always thought he was the more sensible of the two of you. To even think the Alphonse I knew would make such a mis—"

"It was not his fault. I should have realized what would happen. You may have been talking to a fifteen year-old, Ling, but inside he still had a ten year-old's thought process and feelings! What did he know about hormones or any of that? Everything was delayed for all those years, because of my stupidity, and suddenly came flooding in. The temper, the growth-spurts, the—the interest in girls," he pressed on, not sharing in Ling's amusement at the way he still stumbled over such words, "But Van was Not. A mistake. Alphonse knew full-well what could happen, and he made that choice. And Winry knew what she was doing just as well."

"I guess they both liked risk-taking more than you, then."

Edward slid back in his chair before standing. "I think I'd rather eat lunch where I'm not being made fun of at every turn, thanks."

"Ok, I'm sorry, I'm sorry. You're right, that was a bit excessive. My apologies, please sit down." He looked away from the Emperor for a long time before finally settling down again. "Though I'm sure the Baroness will be happy to hear you're still a bachelor, I'm not sure what she'd think of children."

"You're never going to let that poor woman rest, are you?" He said, allowing to be humored by that jest. It was their way, he supposed. Ling would push at his buttons until he exploded, though the game became more and more difficult as the years passed. If Ling was only allowed the usual topics, it could take days.

OoO

The room was decorated differently, and the majority of people present looked a less foreign to him, but Edward was of the opinion that all Balls looked, and essentially were. He was quite glad to be ducking out early from another one.

"Lieutenant Colonel, may I help you?" He almost had to rub at his eyes for a moment. No, it wasn't who he first thought he saw. Her voice was far to timid anyway, and she had that distinctive family curl to her hair.

"No thank you, Miss Catharine Armstrong, I presume?" He took her hand and she nodded. "I was just leaving actually."

"So soon?" She tilted her head in childish curiosity, and Edward had difficulty remembering he was the younger of the two.

"Yes, I'm retrieving my—"

"Nephew, yes of course. Alex has told me so much about the boy. I think it's very admirable of you to help your family take care of and raise a child. It's not an easy task; mother always says so."

"I'm sure," he said, trying not to think of the poor woman who had to raise all five Armstrong children. "I hate to be abrupt, but if you'll excuse me."

"Oh! Yes of course, although, I do believe the Emperor was requesting you." He was past her by the time she said this.

"What?" He half-turned, and wasn't surprised to suddenly sense the energy now in front of him. "Lead me away, Lan Fan, and please say it's quick." He should have figured it wouldn't be this easy. He followed Lan Fan back onto the main floor and Hawkeye, in perhaps the most sensible dress out of all these self-professed military women, approached.

"Sir, the Emperor wished to—"

"No worries, Hawkeye, he found me," Edward said, indicating the silent bodyguard.

"Ah, yes. Well then, he's this way." Ling was surrounded by officials and admirers, not to mention a few reporters, and Edward did not like where this was going.

"There you are!" Ling said, not for the first time. "I thought that since it had been so long—and who knows when the next one will be? –that we should record this momentous occasion."

"Always the photographs," Edward muttered, but stood beside the other and smiled for the cameraman, although it all made him uneasy. He was sure every newspaper in the country would have it by tomorrow.

He was released afterward, and hurried with Hawkeye out the door.

"Where are—?"

"Hayate is due for another walk, and I would rather oblige him before people begin making their ways home under the influence." He nodded in agreement with her line of thinking, though he had nearly forgotten about Black Hayate.

"Well, I hope you two enjoy your walk," he said as they parted ways.

"Thank you, Edward."

OoO

Edward's assumption about the photograph taken was correct. The picture taken of him, Ling, Mei, Grumman, Mustang, Hawkeye, and even Lan Fan in the background would be printed front-page in every newspaper across Amestris, championing the developing friendly relations between two countries. Every newspaper had it.

**I believe the visit from our Xingese friends will draw to a close soon. But others will soon take their place. Let me know what you thought of this one, guys. Read, and review! Over 50 reviews so far, and the more I receive, the more motivation to churn out updates!**


	13. Chapter 13

**60 reviews? I'm amazed and in this daze of happiness. I realize the last couple chapters especially have been short, but most of the time I'm writing at like 1 am, and some days I have to get up before 6, so I try to stick to what really needs to be written in the story so I can get updates out as quick as possible. I'm going to try and write longer chapters for you guys, though, I'm so thankful!**

**Dobby's Polka-Dotted Sock**

**Chapter Twelve:**

**Confrontation**

"Uncle Ed, what's a 'bare-ness'?"

"Sorry?" He turned, bemused, to the child sitting in front of his desk. Van had just finished his first take-home quiz and was still in a question-asking mood it appeared.

"The Emperor said that if we went an' lived with the Bare-ness Bazzykof that I would be rich and famous like him." Edward brought a hand to his forehead for a minute.

"He's talking about Baroness Bazhukov, Van. Don't worry about it, why do you want to be rich and famous anyway?"

"I don't!" Came the prompt answer. "Besides, you're my Uncle Ed, an' that's pretty famous. Kids at school ask me about you _all_ the time."

"They do?" He'd never really thought about how his being Van's uncle would affect saw the boy.

"Yep, an' that's pretty cool and all. But I don't think I'd want to live with her. Isn't it cold in Drachma?"

"It sure is," he answered, recalling drafty rooms and not nearly enough blankets. The port in his left leg had never been so painful before, but there had been no chance to find a mechanic that could convert the metal. He wouldn't have known where to look for a mechanic if he had had the time, anyway.

Van had lapsed into silence again, drawing on the back of his addition and subtraction quiz, when Havoc poked his head in the door.

"Hey Chief?"

"Yeah, Havoc?"

The older man wet his lips, then decided to continue. "You weren't talking about _the_ Baroness Bazhukov, were you?" Edward made the choice not to scold them outright for eavesdropping, but instead leaned back in his chair, pretending to think it over.

"I don't know, are there any other Baroness Bazhukovs out there, Falman?" The other man appeared in the doorway, his ears a little red from having been caught along with his fellows, but endeavored to answer anyway.

"Not currently, sir. The Baroness is one of the Heads of the Noble families in Drachma. Each family is the local ruler of the region for which they are named. Due to the Baron's wife being in failing health these past few years, his eldest daughter has taken up the title. It is said that due to the effects of inbreeding becoming evident in the other Noble families, the Baroness is seeking a suitor not of her own relation."

Fuery chose to lean in the nearly full doorway at that moment, his eyes bugging out, "You almost became a Baron, sir?" He asked, incredulous and voice filled with a sort of shock and admiration.

"I stayed at the Baroness' castle, I didn't propose to her, Fuery," Edward said, not really that surprised by the other's question. If he were to be truthful, the Baroness had obviously held him in her favor, but he really was not interested in that kind of relationship with her. He wouldn't have liked Drachma anyway, just as he had grown restless and tired of Xing.

"You seem to have problems with the whole commitment thing, Chief," Havoc said without thinking, and then looked as though he had swallowed his own cigarette.

"I've been told," Edward replied dryly.

Sometimes the insight of children surprised him. "I'm hungry," Van suddenly said.

"You just ate—" Edward started to say, but stopped. Could it be Van realized he felt uncomfortable with the conversation, and was trying to help him? He checked his watch. "Well, the mess doesn't close just yet, so we can grab something for you."

"Yes!" Van cheered happy as he ever was when food was mentioned, and Edward had to wonder whether he had imagined the child's earlier actions.

"Take a break, you guys, I think we're all just tired," Edward said. Finishing up the meetings and making sure the rest of their Xingese guests' visit went off without a hitch had been stressful on everybody. The other men nodded, and Edward led Van to the mess hall.

They were sitting at a table in the middle of the hall, Van telling 2nd Lieutenant Brosch all about his day at school while the other man smiled and nodded, and Edward almost wished he had the same familiarity with handling kids. From what he knew, Denny Brosch had quite a few siblings and cousins. But gradually, a noise began to grow louder, thundering towards them. People were coming there way for some reason, and then the furious shout pierced through the rumble for a moment.

"I'll see him if I damn well want to!"

Edward slowly rose from the table, patting Van on the shoulder reassuringly while Brosch encouraged the boy to continue. Both could see the nervousness behind the other's calm face, though Edward was sure his was greater. Others had looked up from their conversations and late lunches as well, but Edward only made it two steps forward when the doors suddenly burst open with a horrible bang to each wall.

A man, tall and strong, powerful arms with hands clenched in trembling fists stood there, clothes messy, hair shorter than his but unkempt, bloodshot eyes normally of the same color narrowed, the brows in a fierce downward turn. Orderlies and secretaries stood, somewhat fearful, a few feet behind, having tried and failed to stop his progress.

No one said anything for a moment, the intruder's chest rising and falling with each fuming breath.

"Alphonse," the name tumbled from his lips, both familiar and foreign to him now. He wanted to be overjoyed, but could only wait with dread.

"Dad?" Van asked, sounding confused and as though disbelieving of his father's presence.

"You," Alphonse ground out through his teeth. "You think you can just mess around and then leave and take _whatever_ you want. Well I've had enough." One arm rose up and pointed at Van. "He's coming with me."

Edward glanced back at the boy, worried about Alphonse's emotional state and what could happen if he agreed, but knew if he hesitated his brother would think he was challenging him. And Edward did not want Alphonse to think that; in a straight confrontation Edward always lost, and he was always to afraid of using his advantage in alchemy for fear he really would accidentally hurt his younger brother.

"Wh-what brings you here so sudden?" He tried, hoping to stall, but the piercing glare directed at him did not soften. "I would have taken the day off if you'd sent a call ahead." He desperately did not want this to turn out last their last conversation, but Alphonse seemed to like tradition and began walking forward. Not wanting this to break out so near to any bystanders, especially Van, he had no choice but to meet him halfway.

"How would I have done that?" It didn't even sound like a question in that tone.

"Granny has the number," he replied, not sure whether he should be making eye contact or not.

"Of course," the younger exploded, "because no one can ever get enough of you! You even make it seem fun to abandon your home and everything in it!"

"Al, look, Granny said it'd be temporary, that you and Winry—" He shouldn't have used the nickname, but he still felt like an idiot on the floor, one hand brought up to his pounding head.

"I don't want your excuses! I'm tired of them after all this time. They make me sick. You make me sick!" Edward rolled, but got caught in the back with the kick instead, and came up stumbling on his feet.

"What then? Do you want me to be silent? Do you want an apology? I don't even remember how many I've given you, and I don't even know what I'm apologizing for at this point!" Too loud, that earned him another punch to the gut. He managed to block the second one with his right hand, and they stood struggling; Alphonse trying to deliver the next blow, Edward trying to keep his brother still as possible. Dimly through the mounting headache he could hear Van crying. That's right, he wouldn't have remembered their last fight…a newborn baby crying while his father pounded his uncle into the rug the next room over.

From his studies in martial arts and Chi, he sensed the other's weight shift, but there was no way to avoid it, so Edward was flipped over a shoulder to land hard on his back, his head knocking off of the floor. He could barely breathe for a moment, and all his eyes could take in was the gun barrel pointed at his attacker.

"Don't!" He wheezed, and Hawkeye's eyes flashed behind the weapon, though she hesitated as he asked. Alphonse grabbed him by the hair and pulled him up. "Alphonse, please, for your sake this isn't going to help," he warned but Alphonse gave a bark of laughter at that.

"Really, you know that for sure? Cause I'm feeling better al-_ready_!" He shoved the elder forward, and Edward staggered almost three steps before the boot met his back, sending him sprawling into a table. Something sharp was sticking into his side, but he barely felt it as his head was yanked upward again.

"We should do this more often!" Alphonse exclaimed with childlike happiness. "I've missed beating up _Assholes. Like. You._" With each word Edward's head was slammed back onto the tabletop, and then lifted to repeat. He wasn't even sure what the blurred thing he was looking at was anymore.

Red suddenly sprang to life in the air, and his head met the table one more time, with more of a dull thud as though dropped. He really didn't know what was going on anymore, but after some time, felt someone reach and turn him over as gently as they could. He blinked a couple times and Hawkeye's face swam into focus.

"Edward?" She asked, feeling his ribs for damage. He winced when she found a particularly sore one.

"Where's Alphonse?" He choked out. She looked at a loss for what to say, but a familiar voice responded,

"Detained, fortunately for you." Mustang was there, inspecting hits to his head and face. The General was wearing his gloves, which Edward didn't understand.

"Well, is he okay?"

"Worrying about him at a time like this? Honestly, Fullmetal, you should be more concerned for yourself. I know I am."

"An' Van?"

"Brosch has him right now," Hawkeye told him.

"Oh."

"You're going to be alright," Mustang said, "But not without a trip to the hospital." He groaned, though he knew it was immature, and Mustang merely patted him lightly on the shoulder in sympathy.

"Get some rest, sir," Hawkeye suggested, and he could not even think of protesting her kind request.

**And so Alphonse is officially in the story. I apologize for the lame fight scene, I'm terrible at describing them, but it had to be done. I really, really, want feedback for this chapter guys. So even though I never expected close to 60 reviews for this story, if you've kept reading to this point, please review and let me know how it went? Thanks for reading!**


	14. Chapter 14

**Thanks so much for all your responses. Kalirush, I will definitely take your suggestions if I ever need to write a fight scene again. And I will probably be going for the Ed/Riza pairing, so sorry if that's not what you were hoping for, but I have yet to hear any complaints. Enjoy the next chapter!**

**Dobby's Polka-Dotted Sock**

**Chapter Thirteen:**

**Anger's Aftermath**

He opened his eyes slowly, but knew instantly that he had to be in a hospital bed. Couches and real mattresses were entirely different things. It didn't seem like he was hooked up to anything fortunately, although he had a couple of bandages, and there were a couple sore spots on his back and ribs that probably would ache for at least a week after this. Having gone over this mental checklist, he pushed the covers back and swung his legs around.

"Sir, please be a little more patient." Hawkeye was sitting in a visitor's chair, with a pile of paperwork in the other, being efficient as ever. He had the grace to rub at the back of his neck and give her a sheepish grin.

"How long have I been out?"

"Only a few hours, sir."

"When do I get to leave here?" She shook her head at his insistence on being released from the hospital's care, but answered him.

"The doctor will most likely want you to answer a few questions, and you'll be allowed to leave provided that you take it easy at work for a while; you took quite a few hits to the head."

"Nothing I haven't had before, this is pretty good considering," he shrugged amiably; just happy he wasn't hooked up to some machine at the moment.

"I've seen you in worse condition, but Edward, I've never seen you so soundly beaten before." She stared at him with a question in her eyes, and he had trouble breaking from her gaze. "You know the General will ask the same thing," she added to his turned face. He sighed, and tried to think of the correct response.

"I let him do that, I didn't fight back because- well, I've done enough damage to that body over the years. I was the reason it was taken from him for so long, and to even _think_ of harming it again in anyway—it's just monstrous, isn't it? And how would hitting him back have made him any less angry? It doesn't matter though, he always used to beat me anyway."

"I think it would be different now." He looked back up at her face, and confirmed that it did seem to be anger she was trying to keep from her voice. "What I saw wasn't martial arts, it wasn't practiced form. It was beating up on another person. And it was awful."

He tried to come up with something to say in defense of his brother, but nothing came to mind. She continued.

"He was angry, he was drunk, and he went far over the line. Shameful conduct—"

"Alright, yes, but he's not—he's just angry. He's angry at me and he doesn't know how else to express it, but he's not just some thug."

"Well it looked that way. He's had over six years to get over it, hasn't he? Why does he hold on to it all?"

"Because he does!"

"But why?"

"I don't, it's complica—"

"Well, I'll never understand it, no one will, if you don't explain it!" He barely even had a moment to think this was the first he had ever heard her yell.

"_I_ don't understand it! He's angry, confused, and for some reason, he feels like I've destroyed his life! And I don't know why, because he has everything we were fighting over! I gave it to him, because I thought after everything, he deserved it more! Shameful? I guess it is, but I've done worst things in life than hold a grudge," he finally turned to see her brown eyes wide as she stared at him with a sort of realization on her face that was slowly shifting to one of her rare looks of compassion. He noticed in that moment, somewhere in the middle they had both stood up in their argument, and she took a step forward.

"I'm sorry," she finally said, "I shouldn't have said those things about your brother without knowing the situation."

"It's fine, I needed to hear it," he said, feeling guilty for shouting at her. "You're just trying to help, and all I do is push away."

"It's understandable, Edward. I never thought you and Alphonse would ever have a falling out, and yet here we are. Your trust in people had to be shaken by that. I wish I had advice, but the only people I've ever put my trust in are my fellow soldiers. I'm hardly a help to you in these matters, I know that." They each stared at the ground, until Edward finally let out a chuckle.

"Maybe we can be terrible at it together, huh? Truce?" The smile she gave him actually reached her eyes and she nodded.

"I'll let you get dressed while I fetch the doctor, hopefully you can leave before it's fully dark."

"Thanks Hawkeye."

It wasn't just the doctor that checked in, Mustang came as well. "I guess you'll be going home then?" The General asked him when the doctor finished taking his notes.

"I'm hoping to, but first I want to know where you put Alphonse." Mustang seemed to be deciding whether to divulge the information, and both Edward and Hawkeye looked at him expectantly.

Finally he sighed, "They're holding him in a cell right now—"

"What?"

"—for assault of an officer, disturbing the peace, breaking into a government facility, resisting arrest, I can go on Edward; the point is, even if you drop the charges concerning you, he's still under arrest." Edward dropped his head in his hands and tried not to think about what Alphonse must be feeling at the moment.

"Edward, I know you feel responsible," Hawkeye spoke gently, "But Alphonse is an adult. He'll have to face up to his actions just like anyone else. Maybe this will make him see that his anger will get him nowhere."

"Would I have realized that when I first signed up for the military? I would have been mad as hell, and that's honestly his mindset right now, Hawkeye. He's like the worst of me and I still can't totally read him." She sighed, acknowledging his point.

"There's nothing we can do here. I'll take you to retrieve Van and then bring you both home; he'll be happy to see you awake at least." Poor Van had to watch that whole thing, he realized. He wondered what the kid had thought of it all, and whether it had permanently shattered Alphonse's reputation to his son. He hoped not; Edward was still hoping that somehow things could become normal in Resembool.

Riza drove calmly through the mostly empty streets of Central. It was getting late, and it was a workday, so there were fewer cars than usual. She glanced at Edward in the passenger seat, looking out the window, but she doubted he saw any of it.

"Aren't I responsible, though?" He asked quietly. "I practically raised him, so isn't it my fault he's turned out this way? And yet I'm being given another opportunity to botch a child up for life, what kind of world is this?"

"You were being asked to raise a child just as you were raising yourself, Edward. You couldn't be both brother and father; that would be asking too much. Someone should have done something, said something, but you always came across as so grown-up to me. I honestly found myself thinking of you with respect more often than not. And you've done a wonderful job so far with Van, all things considered, trying to juggle a job and all the issues in your hometown." She paused and glanced at him again to see he was paying full attention to her now, which for some reason encouraged her rather than the opposite to say, "A far better job than my father ever did, and he was home every day."

"I guess I really shouldn't complain so much. Everyone has had something happen to them in their life."

"It's quite fine, I've said before, I wish to be there for you. My personal problems are in the past; hardly anything complicates my life now."

Shortly afterward they pulled up in front of the Brosch's and collected Van. She let the boy sit in the passenger seat, illegal as it was, simply because she doubted he would let go of his uncle anytime soon. Edward, for his part, seemed glad to see his nephew again and asked if he was alright and such. They both thanked her for the ride when she reached their apartment, and she returned the pleasantries with a smile before returning to her own practically empty home.

Hayate was there to greet her, but in the dim hall light the hair on his muzzle seemed grayer than ever, and he followed at the slow pace that had become natural in the last few years. Morbid as it was, she knew deep down she would soon have the place all to herself again, and the thought of getting a new puppy did nothing to console her.

It was true what she had said to Edward; nothing was going on in her life. She lived for her job, and did nothing else. She realized now that Rebecca had tried to warn her, but she had had a clear goal to fight for day by day then, and did not heed her friend's advice. Now it was a matter of pencil-pushing and waiting for her grandfather to retire, and Roy would be at the top. And then what would she do? Follow behind like a shadow, an aging, slowly dying shadow, like some horrid mix of her elderly dog and the Emperor's bodyguard? She hugged Hayate to her chest for the longest time, and didn't know what to do, or think, or say.

**There's another chapter for you all, since you feed my motivation with reviews at a crazy pace. Thank you! I hope I fully explained it in the chapter, but if not: a lot of you asked how Edward was beaten so easily. Well, it was because, firstly he's not mad at Alphonse so he has no reason to beat up his little brother; secondly, he worked and researched and fought for years just to return Alphonse's body to him, since he felt it was his fault, so he really feels he has no right to turn it black and blue. He also is hoping that if Alphonse finally gets all the anger and frustration out of him, that things will eventually go back to normal. It's a silly hope, but Ed's kind of an optimist when it comes to his brother. Let me know what you thought of this chapter, and thanks so much for reading! **


	15. Chapter 15

**Hey guys, sorry for the wait, I've been pretty busy these past few days! But I'm so happy, 80 reviews! !**

**Dobby's Polka-Dotted Sock**

**Chapter Fourteen:**

**Arrival**

Pinako Rockbell eased herself up from the workbench, slowly uncurling gnarled fingers from around a wrench, willing the phone to stop sounding so shrill.

"Oh!" The woman exclaimed, back popping as she straightened, and then she shuffled forward to the device. It was so late, who on earth could be calling? Maybe Alphonse had fallen asleep down at the tavern again and they were getting tired of housing him. It would explain where he had disappeared off to for the past twenty-four hours or so. "Rockbell Automail, how can I help you?"

"It's me, Pinako." She should have figured.

"Edward, how are you?"

"Not so great, actually. Van's doing alright, I suppose. But, ah, you didn't tell me you were sending someone to pick him up."

She frowned though he couldn't see it. "What are you talking about, I never sent—" Pinako gasped and couldn't quite catch her breath for a minute. "No! When- how—"

"He showed up this afternoon and wanted Van to go back with him. And, well, he also decided to do a repeat of our last encounter…on government property. Al's under arrest, Granny, and there's nothing I can do."

"What are you fretting about; this is good as far as I'm concerned. It could teach him a lesson! He's the one who wanted to be the fool in front of all those people. At least tell me you hit him back?" He gave her no answer, instead asking a question of his own, which she took to mean that he'd handled the situation just the same as six years ago. They were both fools then.

"Why did he decide to come now, Granny? What could have motivated him to just hop on a train and come to Central?" She glanced over at the dining room table that the 'man' of the house monopolized when he decided to be home. There was a crumpled up newspaper sitting next to an unfinished breakfast. Pinako smoothed out the wrinkled paper and thought she had an answer.

"Maybe your picture on the front page of my newspaper?" Edward swore, quietly she noted, perhaps Van was nearby or he had simply fallen into the habit.

"Ling!" The name of their neighboring country's Emperor sounded more like a curse from the man she was conversing with. "I knew it was a terrible idea. And now Al's sitting in a cell. How did all this happen?"

She gave a well-used sigh. "You won't have to worry for too long. I'll send Winry up and she can pay the bail money. I suppose you would have already if you weren't involved in the charges."

He did not deny her accusation. "You're actually going to do that? I thought—"

"Now don't get me wrong, Edward; I'm only sending her so she doesn't go frantic when she reads about her husband's arrest in the newspaper. Otherwise, I'd let him rot. As it is, I'm still going to let him stew for awhile. She can visit him once a day until I give her access to the bail money, and maybe then he'll have found his common sense again." She waited as he thought it all over.

"That sounds fine," he agreed after a pause. "But where's Winry going to stay, Pinako? A hotel or—"

"Well, she'll stay with her son, of course." She let that hang in the air.

"What?"

OoO

Edward had no choice but to hang up the phone after they had worked everything out, giving Pinako a half-hearted "Goodnight". He looked around his small, cluttered, built-for-one apartment. Where was he going to put her?

He looked at Van's closed bedroom door and thought of telling him. But no, the boy was asleep, no sense in waking him. Edward would simply bring it up over breakfast.

What was Winry going to say when she got here? What was he going to say? He looked over at his desk scattered with notes, journals, and various objects. Van couldn't make heads or tails of any of it, but Winry…

He thought of a thunderstorm in Rush Valley and her muttering into his shoulder that she had opened his pocket watch. He hadn't even dropped her out of anger; he had simply felt stunned. Edward always found out what Winry had done to him after the fact it seemed.

In this vein of thought, he spent the rest of the night cleaning his apartment. Van would be amazed and claim it was the work of 'magic cleaning-fairies' in the morning.

OoO

Riza could not believe she had slept in. After such a shocking and somewhat draining day, she supposed it would be natural for her body to delay waking up. But she prided herself on professionalism, and did not wish to make a bad impression or example to her co-workers, superiors, or subordinates.

The Major pulled General Mustang off the phone, not sure if it was one of his foster-sisters or a new girlfriend he was talking to, to check in. He gave the customary salute and asked for a cup of coffee before returning to his conversation. After delivering the requested beverage, she brought in a stack of paperwork, checked her in-tray, and nodded to Fuery who was currently fixing another telephone, before heading in the direction of Edward's office.

"Great, you're here!" Breda said as she pushed the door open. It seemed like the three men in this office had started on their work, but not made much progress. She narrowed her eyes at them as she asked,

"What do you mean by that, Lieutenant?"

"He's doing the pacing-thing again, Hawkeye! And we don't know what to do; whenever he paces, something's going to happen," Havoc said, sounding quite fearful for a full-grown man and soldier.

"We'd be grateful if you would find out what is upsetting him; we've ruled out the obvious," Falman stated, and she knew he meant Alphonse.

"Well, I—" she began to say.

"Is that Hawkeye?" Edward's voice asked, slightly muffled by the door, but she could hear the spiked inflection, indicating stress.

"Go, go!" Breda whispered, ushering her forward and Havoc, ever the gentleman she noted dryly, opened the door for her.

"Sir? Edward?" She asked, once in, and having gotten a good look at him. It didn't appear as though the man had slept since his brief rest in the hospital, and he was pacing as Havoc had said. His hat looked as though thrown onto his desk and his hair was disheveled from the amount of times his fingers had run through it.

"Pinako's sending Winry to pay the bail for Alphonse, but she won't get access to the money right away," he blurted, and she couldn't help but start. How Winry would handle this hadn't even crossed her mind yet.

"I suppose she needs time to gather the money, it's going to be pretty high," she pointed out and he nodded.

"It's not just that, though. She's hoping Alphonse will cool off while he's sitting in there. But she's sending Winry up today anyway."

"Why's that?"

"I don't know, I haven't seen her in six years or something, but I guess she wants to be nearby her husband." Riza supposed that it made sense, but she also could see that there was something more bothering Edward.

"So will Van be staying with her, ah, wherever she is staying?" He swallowed and shook his head.

"She's going to be staying with Van…and me." She could tell he was not thrilled by the idea at all.

"Oh," she said. "I guess a hotel would be expensive."

"That's true, yes, but—I don't know. I really don't think it's the best of ideas." Riza was not sure it was either, but Edward needed some positive words now, he could dwell on the negative plenty by himself, and it was clear he already had.

"Not necessarily. You wouldn't have to take care of Van all by yourself. You'd have some of your own time back; you could see friends or take on more challenging assignments. And Van must want to see his mother." She could tell it was starting to make an impact, small as it was.

"Yeah, he seemed kind of interested. And I've got to admit, sitting at this desk everyday has been starting to bore me. How do you stand it?"

"I'm not sure myself," she said, and was surprised to hear it. She had thought it in her head, but never meant to speak the words aloud. Edward simply smiled.

"Hey, at least it's not just me. Why don't we both try some kind of assignment or something to switch things up? You've got the time, right?" He promptly blanched and then turned red as he stammered, "Not that I—I didn't mean- I really didn't. It- just—"

But she offered him a smile and said, "You're right. I should take my own advice."

He sighed, relieved at having not offended her, yet could not quite meet her eyes as he said, "Thanks, Hawkeye. I think I'll be good for the rest of the day, so I'll start on my paperwork."

"Of course, sir." She resolved not to be late to the office again; it seemed she would never know just when Edward would need some friendly words.

OoO

They stood against a column in the station, and Edward felt as fidgety on the inside as Van was on the outside. When they had retrieved him from school, Van had not stopped chattering about everything he would tell Mommy about his stay here.

The train had pulled in and people were stepping out onto the platform. He tried to scan over the heads for the familiar face, and so was surprised when a woman had walked straight up to them and said, "I still need my luggage."

"Mommy!" Van shouted in delight, and attached himself to her legs. And Edward could only stare at this woman, dressed in sensible shoes, a modest skirt, a simple blouse and matching jacket, and with much shorter hair that formed a straight curtain around her face. He had only seen small glimpses of her these past six years when he visited her grandmother and son, but now Winry was standing right in front of him and he felt stunned.

"Here you are, Miss, ah, Ma'am!" said a worker from the train as he carried a bag and a suitcase, one in each arm. Edward was better at hiding his winces at people's reactions, but knew why the man had corrected himself.

"Thank you," she said, and yet the smile was so tiny, and lacked much warmth. He took the luggage and led the two from the station, Van hanging on to his mother's arm while talking excitedly and Winry walking and walking and looking as though she did not register a word.

**And now Winry is here. I had a ton of fun writing for Pinako, I have no idea why though. She's pretty awesome. Thank you for being so patient and I hope this was worth the wait. Let me know in a review, and thank you for reading!**


	16. Chapter 16

**Hey guys, thanks so much for the reviews, it really makes my day! I would like to reassure you, the intent of this story is not to hate on Alphonse and Winry. I like Alphonse and Winry, Al's like one of my favorite characters, so writing him like this is kind of killing me. But I like to challenge myself, so I do it anyway. Nevertheless, there are reasons behind their actions, some already hinted at and some still to be revealed. So, with that bit of housekeeping out of the way, I give you the next chapter!**

**Dobby's Polka-Dotted Sock**

**Chapter Fifteen:**

**Interrogation and Mission**

General Roy Mustang skimmed the relatively small file he held in his hand one more time before entering the jail proper. As he was led past cell after cell, some men looked indifferent, others shrank back in fear, and still more glared or cursed at him. The results of a successful military career.

Roy was known for actually rooting out problems, destroying opposition, and putting guilty men behind bars. He owed these attributes to himself, and to a strong and loyal team. Without them, it would never have been possible for him to come this far, be so close to the top. And that's what made this interrogation all the more difficult.

He was here to question the youngest unofficial former member of his team, and hardly had anything to work with. Alphonse's file stated the basic facts, had a long but utterly useless list of incidents he had participated in over the course of the Elric Brother's journeys, and then skipped eight years to this final occurrence. What he needed, and wanted, to know was why.

The guard slid the door open and there were the usual blank walls, the cold metal table, and the subject of his interrogation chained to it. Alphonse hardly glanced up from his slumped position, but when he did the eyes Roy met with were narrowed in a fierce glare. Those eyes were familiar to him,, but on a different face, and if he let himself imagine the general could picture Alphonse's red hot anger settling around him like a cloak. But this wasn't going to be a friendly verbal spar.

He sat, took a deep breath before beginning, and asked, "Name?"

"Did you forget?" In past years the question might have been framed with the innocent tilt of a metal helmet, but now the words scorched with sarcasm. Roy never let his calm manner slip; he was used to playing with fire.

"It's the customary start, and I would suggest you cooperate if you want to have the minimum consequences."

"Alphonse Elric."

"Would you like to describe the events leading up to your arrest?"

Alphonse glowered a little, and let out an angry breath, but complied. "I was having breakfast in my home, and I was feeling pretty low because Van was still gone—"

"You didn't know his whereabouts?"

"No. I came home one morning from town, and I found that she'd sent him away somewhere, said 'things needed to be worked out'." It was clear what Alphonse thought of it, following his words with a scoff.

"Who said?"

"The old bat," he replied, and Roy took it to mean Pinako Rockbell. Alphonse could hardly refer to his own wife as an old bat.

"She wouldn't tell me where he was. But then it hit me right when I saw the paper. She'd sent Van to _him_."

Roy realized Alphonse must have been talking about the picture from the ball at the Armstrong's. Edward had been pretty worried about that, and it seemed he had had a reason to be. Roy could see it now, Alphonse in a bad mood, glancing at the morning paper, and finding his brother's face smiling politely for the camera at a fancy ball; shoulder to shoulder with the Emperor of Xing and one of Alphonse's former admirers.

"Your brother."

"Yeah. Well, I knew it had to be true. So I made my mind up, I was going to Central. And Van was coming back with me."

"So you came to Central, with no thoughts of violence on your mind. Your intention was to collect Van Elric and return home. Now I ask you to remember, but I don't expect much considering you were clearly intoxicated when you arrived at headquarters: what changed your mind? What turned this from an act of trespassing, to assault?" Alphonse said nothing for some time. "I'm really trying here, Alphonse," he finally said, some of the harshness leaving his voice, "If you hadn't attacked Edward, this might not be happening. Now I need to know why it did."

"He wasn't going to give him up," the blonde man finally said, very sure of himself.

"Did he tell you that?"

"He hesitated. I could see he was trying to use that supposed genius of his to find a way out of it."

"But why would he do that? He knows it's against the law to withhold your son from—"

"He seemed fine going along with swindling Van away from me when my back was turned? What's the difference?"

"Alphonse, Edward didn't even know Van was coming here until he arrived at headquarters. He tried to convince Granny to take the kid back! He clearly didn't want to fight you over Van, unless you didn't notice that he let you give him the soundest beating I've seen in a long time!"

Instead of the younger man's anger continuing to build with the volume of the room, though, it suddenly dropped levels. "That's not my fault. He'd beat the shit out of anyone who even mentioned the word short. But not with me; it was always different with me."

Roy stared at the other's profile, for he had turned his face away as spoke, for a long moment. "Do you…resent that?"

No answer came, and eventually, he had to give up. He had gotten the essential facts of the event, and he would be late to a meeting with the Führer if he did not leave right away. The fact that he felt he had been onto something only served to make him irritable for the rest of the day.

OoO

"Sir?"

"What, Major?" Their eyes met for a second, and she could see he regretted snapping at her. "My apologies, Major Hawkeye."

"Accepted, General. If you would just sign these forms, you may leave for the evening."

"Of course," he said, and took the forms rather eagerly from her hands. She saw him skim a couple, signing on the lines indicated, but then his pen hovered over one in particular. "You're applying for availability in active missions?" His eyes watched her curiously as she took a breath and went over her response in her head.

"Yes, sir. I felt that with the current situation, my free time could be best employed in helping make our nation's capitol as safe as possible, so that other cities might learn from its example. Also, my marksmanship is only being used right now to impress new recruits. I would like to use it again for nobler purposes." She really needn't have worried so. He took in the words and nodded.

"An admirable goal, Major," he signed that form, and then paused again at the one underneath it. "Fullmetal, too? Is he worried we all think he's a weakling now?" He raised his face again with a smirk displayed, and she merely shrugged. "Very well, then. I'm sure he'll die of boredom if I don't sign this, and I'd rather not have that on my hands." Finished with the papers, he stood and she retrieved his coat from the stand. "Thank you, Major."

"Of course, General."

OoO

The investigative branch was very happy to have her for this assignment; this particular terrorist ring conducted operations in the open, crowded places, and they had never wanted to attempt to detain any of them for fear of accidentally harming civilians. With her accuracy, they were confident it would work, not. She studied the crowds through the scope of her gun, and paused on one man steadily making his way across the street. Following his line of vision, she focused on another man leaning casually against the side of an office building. She glanced down at the old mug shots provided for her, and realized these were two of the men they were trying to capture.

She waited, saw them converse, and subtly exchange what looked like important papers between them. A menacing flash of metal came from the first man's pocket, and she decided on her target.

He was on the ground in pain before the majority of the surrounding people noticed the gunshot. She couldn't get a good opening on the second man who appeared to be making his escape; he hardly got two steps before being tackled to the ground, and she supposed Edward had sensed the adrenaline building in the runaway, giving him a tip off. A brief scuffle ensued, but ultimately Edward was the winner, the only evidence of his fight being his quickened breath, some dirt stains, and his missing hat which had been knocked off.

Some soldiers swarmed in to fully subdue the criminals and to start pushing the crowd back, and she was given the all-clear signal. By the time Riza had descended the stairs of the building they had secured for the mission and exited, the crowd was half-corralled; the other half seemed to want to talk to Edward, who was much more recognizable without his hat.

"Good work," she told him, picking the battered article off the street and beginning to brush it off.

"Thanks, you too. You know, I wasn't even sure which building you were in, I still need some work when it comes to big crowds. But you really are unpredictable."

"Thank you, I try my best." Suddenly, a little gold blur dodged under a policeman's legs and attached himself to Edward's legs.

"Wow, that was awesome!" Riza felt she shouldn't have been surprised, but still knew her mouth dropped anyway.

"Van, what are you doing here? You're supposed to be—"

"Mrs. Hughes said that she thought Mommy needed a Girl's Night In or something, and I didn't want to be there for that. So Lieutenant Havoc took me to dinner!" Edward rolled his eyes, and Riza looked into the crowd to find that Havoc was among them, and was currently talking with a young woman who did not seem very impressed.

"Well, he's my boss's nephew, but we're really close!"

They both tried for a moment to contain their amusement, but she was still smiling as she asked, "How is Winry settling in?"

Edward sighed, "I really don't know. Unless I ask her a direct question, she doesn't make a sound. She'll listen to Van speaking to her, but it's like she doesn't really notice it at the same time, you know? I'm worried." Edward was clearly not paying enough attention to Van either at the moment, as the boy was currently trying to climb his uncle. "What is it—you want up?" Van nodded, and he stooped to pick up the child. When he stood back up two blonde heads were looking at her.

"Lieutenant Havoc says that you helped, too, Major, but I didn't see it. It was awesome anyway!" She smiled back at him, and was about to respond, when a second shot rang out, and shattered the lamppost next to them. Both soldiers ducked instinctively, Edward bringing Van back to the ground and shielding him from the falling glass. His head was soon up again, glaring across the street.

"That's what had me confused, there was a second sniper. Hang onto him for a minute, Hawkeye." And Edward ran, Riza finding herself shocked to see alchemical light spark at his fingertips and rush to the ground, steps of pavement rising up to meet his boots. She leveled her gun at the building anyway, watching for further movement from inside while he leapt in a window, and Van clung to her leg.

There were a few more shots, some muffled noises and crashes, and finally things were still. After a moment, Edward emerged at the window, an unconscious man over his shoulder. The other soldiers and civilians seemed to let out a collective sigh in relief as he descended his makeshift staircase, the ground reforming behind him. A couple sergeants were there to meet him, taking control of the body.

"Are you alright, sir?" She asked, though not able to move as Van was still clutching her legs.

"Yeah, he got a couple hits in, nothing major. I don't think he expected company so quickly." He grinned, which seemed to relax Van at last, and she also let out the breath she had been holding.

"Yes, well, his aim was also terrible."

"I agree, nowhere near as great as yours. Hey, did you eat before coming here, because I'm hungry and I think the fridge is empty at home."

"Can I have dessert?" Van interjected, and both adults laughed a little at his enthusiasm.

"Since you've had dinner, I suppose so," Edward allowed.

"And I'd be happy to join you both," she added. Van beamed at her, and Edward smiled.

"Awesome!" Van said and Riza was beginning to wonder if it was his new favorite word. He grabbed each of their hands and dragged them along, despite not knowing where they were even going. She let herself be pulled to a great end to a great week.

**Okay, this chapter was mostly to delve into some things, plus it doubled as an inclusion of more Mustang, who I have neglected. I hope you enjoyed it, and thanks for reading. Don't forget to leave a review!**


	17. Chapter 17

**I love reviews so much. Thank you!**

**Dobby's Polka-Dotted Sock**

**Chapter Sixteen:**

**As Time Goes By**

_**1917**_

The farmer had been kind enough to give him a ride back, since it was just the next town over, and he didn't have to pay for another train ticket. It was pleasant to travel by wagon, and a bit nostalgic, too. Everything about living in Resembool seemed nostalgic.

People waved and greeted him by name on his walk through town, and his feet followed the familiar dirt path up and away through green fields, until he crested the hill and his eyes were met with the lovely sight of the Rockbell Automail sign. Even lovelier was the sight of Winry leaning against the railing. Her eyes lit upon his figure and he felt a smile spread over his face.

She came down the porch steps to meet him and asked, "Everything went well?"

"Of course, what do you take me for? Yeah, they were really happy with the new barn." The smile she wore grew bigger with the news.

"At this rate, Resembool's going to be famous for having the World's Most Loved Handyman," she laughed and he thought it was a sound he could get used to quite easily.

"I'd rather be known as that than anything else. But, uh," he gathered up some of the courage people said he had limitless amounts of and said, "I thought we were already known for having the World's Most Loved Automail Shop." She flushed a pretty pink and turned to hide her smile. He looked around; inside he saw the recognizable smoke trail from Granny's pipe coming from where she sat at the workbench, Den curled around the stool. "Where's Al?"

"Oh, he was feeling tired, said he was going to bed. He wanted to wait up for you though." He had the feeling his face was going to end up frozen in this grin before he was twenty. Just the thought of his little brother having a nap—_sleeping!_—before dinner made him want to dance for joy. And he was not a dancer.

OoO

_**1924**_

He pushed the eggs around the skillet Gracia had graciously given; making sure nothing was burning or undercooked. He had no idea how he was ever going to repay that woman. If there was such a thing as a saint, Gracia Hughes was certainly it.

She was standing by the archway, and at least five minutes had passed like this. He sighed while turning the heat down slightly, and gave up on hoping she would speak first.

"Are you hungry?"

He heard and sensed her jump in surprise, and when he turned around, she was practically hiding in the shadow of the archway, just her sky-blue eyes staring wide-eyed at him.

"Y-yes," Winry said, and she was toying with the hem of her blouse.

He hoped his smile was welcoming and said, "Well, come on in, the eggs are about done." She walked, almost on tip-toe to the little table and sat down. Her hands were folded neatly in her lap and her back perfectly straight. "It's probably a good thing you're up so early," he said, continuing what seemed to be a one-man conversation, "Van _inhales_ the food in this place. Kind of like me at that age, I guess." His chuckle was met with what looked like a smile—her lips gave a nervous twitch, anyway.

"Like Alphonse, too," it was a quiet near-whisper, but she had responded! Why to this, he wasn't sure; it had been a very weak joke.

"Of course," he said, setting the plate on the table. He thought he heard noises from the bedroom after the toast popped out of the toaster. Soon enough, Van came eagerly to the kitchen, taking the other seat across from his mother.

"Good morning!" He chirped.

"Good morning, Van," Edward replied, Winry echoing him in her quiet voice.

"I have to start researching for a report in school today," Van informed them in his important way as he happily accepted his own breakfast.

"That so, what about?" Edward asked him.

"It's about famous alchemists. They wouldn't let me pick you Uncle Ed, so I picked General Mustang! Isn't that great, I can ask him questions after school, right?" Edward paused to imagine Roy Mustang bent over a report he was trying to read while Van asked him what his favorite color was, and managed to squash the bout of laughter threatening to overcome him.

Instead, he leaned against the cabinet, finishing off the remaining food. "I'm sure you can, he'll make time."

"I'm thirsty," Van said, hopping off his chair and heading to the fridge.

"Get something for your mother," Edward reminded him, and Van returned with the milk jug while he fetched two cups from the cupboard.

"That's milk," Winry said, still hushed, but this time in astonishment.

"Yep, that's okay with you, right Mommy?"

Winry's mouth seemed to work for a moment, eyes looking like she didn't believe in the existence of the beverage in front of her. Finally, her mouth shut and she nodded once, twice. Van smiled and poured the two cups.

He soon had them both ready, and grabbed his coat-turned-blanket up from the desk chair, his new bed. Soon enough he was dropping them off at Gracia's, Van leaving shortly afterward with the other school children.

"I'll be back after work," he told Winry, gently prying her hand from his arm for the umpteenth time as he turned to go. It wasn't that she didn't like Gracia, from what the woman said she was calm as soon as they were inside. He descended the stairs and began his walk to work.

What he had told Hawkeye was true, he was worried. He hadn't really seen Winry for quite some time, and had no idea what was making act this way. He wanted to call Pinako, but he had no time; work was not the place for personal calls, and he wasn't going to call up Winry's grandmother to talk about her while she in the same room.

OoO

"Morning, Hawkeye," Edward yawned as he came through the door. Riza looked up and gave a smile.

"Good morning, Edward," she handed him a cup of still-steaming coffee, black. She wasn't sure why he chose to drink that way, but supposed it was an acquired taste. He blinked curiously at it, seeming surprised that it was for him. He accepted it after a moment, taking a huge gulp.

"Thanks," he said.

"No trouble, sir," she replied.

OoO

_**1917**_

"What are you doing up here, hm?" Her arm snaked around his as he stood, hands in his pockets, before the essentially empty hilltop.

"I was just thinking," Edward replied, "Al and I can't live off of your hospitality our whole lives. We should work towards moving out."

"You living with us is no trouble, Ed," she said, and added, "Besides, I'd miss you even if you were still in Resembool. I love you. Both. So much."

He turned to see her staring at him in earnest, and smiled to put her at ease again.

"I know. We care about you, too, Winry."

"Do you two just feel all the same things?" He wasn't sure what to say.

"I-I guess in a way, we feel a lot of the same things. We've shared a lot."

"Yeah," she was gazing out at the wind brushing the long grass and treetops, but still had a smile playing at her lips, so he wasn't worried. "I guess you're right."

OoO

_**1924**_

"Are you alright?"

"Edward, you have a bloody nose, I should be worrying over you," Riza replied as she watched the police shove the thugs in cars that would take them to the jail. One of them had managed to put a gun to her head, which left her basically immobile, while the rest ganged up on her partner. She had managed to turn the tables on her attacker and help take down some of Edward's, and yet still felt foolish.

"Hey, I don't know what I would've done in your place. I didn't see it, but I almost feel bad for the other guy." She couldn't help but smile, even as she pulled out a handkerchief to stem the flow of his blood. "Thanks. You're always patching me up, aren't you?"

"Somebody should," she told him.

"Well I—I'm glad it's you." He scratched at the back of his neck just like he did whenever he felt nervous or embarrassed.

"That's kind of you to say, Edward," she responded not even attempting to hide this smile.

"I mean it, too."

"I know."

OoO

"It's a Friday, Edward, surely you have something to do. I'm keeping Winry and Van here until 10, and I don't expect to see you before then," Gracia told him at the door.

"But I really don't want to trouble you—"

"It's no trouble. I think Van's good for Elysia; it reminds her that she's really not that grownup. And I'm hoping that having Winry out amongst friends is helping her, so there's no need to set a rigid schedule for her. You need to get out more, too, Edward. You're only twenty-five!"

He sighed. "I guess you're right, Gracia." She smiled in triumph, and he headed back down her front stairs. The question was what was he going to do? He could call Pinako now, but he felt like Gracia wanted him to do something that was not about trying to manage the lives of his immediate relatives. The bookstore would be a good idea, he supposed. Edward was getting through the east side of the city, and almost tripped over something as he rounded a corner.

"Oh, I'm sorry—Edward?" Of course it was Hawkeye who got to see him smack right into a building. Black Hayate turned out to be what he had just managed to jump over.

"Hey, Hawkeye. Walking Hayate? Hi, boy," he gave the dog a pat on the head before straightening again.

"Yes, and I apologize—"

"No problem, at least he didn't leap on my face like usual," He grinned at her, then asked, "This might sound weird, but could I join you? I really have nothing to do, and, I don't know—" she interrupted him this time.

"Of course, we were going to head back." So he fell into step with the dog and its master. "He doesn't really jump anymore," she said after a time.

"That's alright," he replied. "Den didn't do all that much either, before—well— you know. But he was just as loveable. Pinako doesn't let on, but I think she really misses him."

"I'll miss Hayate as well," she admitted. "He's been my companion for so long, it will seem very quiet around here." She gestured to the building before them, and Edward realized it was her apartment complex. They entered and she led them to her apartment. It looked basically the same as the last time he had been here, over eight years ago, though with less half-unpacked boxes. Hayate went and curled up on what appeared to be his own dog-bed, and she sighed and looked around.

"There's not much in the way of food here," she began, but he cut her off.

"Oh, I wasn't inviting myself over. I'm probably going to look around for someplace to eat."

"Well, I'm going to have to ask if I may join _you_ this time."

"That's perfectly fine," he replied.

Soon, they were walking the streets again, looking for somewhere to eat, and talking. They passed a perfectly good restaurant, and would have kept on going if they hadn't heard Havoc.

"Hey, Chief! Hawkeye!" They turned to see the other man poking his head out of the restaurant doors, and turned to meet him.

"Havoc, what are you doing here?" Edward asked.

"Well, I _was_ going on a date, and I made a reservation here. But she called me an hour ago to break our date. She's seeing the General now." Havoc looked so depressed they doubted he would continue. But eventually he picked his head back up again. "I still had this reservation, so I figured I might as well eat out as consolation, but do you guys want to join me? Oh, unless maybe you're—" He seemed to be turning red from realizing something that wasn't true, but Hawkeye quickly cut in.

"It'd be a pleasure, Havoc, I'm sorry to hear about your troubles."

"Hey, if she dropped you like that, we'll probably be better company."

"Gee, thanks guys. I was feeling pretty low, you know?"

They were seated, and Edward was glad Havoc wasn't overly romantic, as they place seemed pretty normal and not over-the-top. He really wasn't sure why his coworker had such bad luck with women; he was pretty sure not every woman on earth was interested in how high ranked of an officer you were.

Hawkeye was at the salad bar when Havoc asked, "How are things, Chief? We kind of worry, you know?"

"Yeah, I know. I really don't know what to tell you. Winry, she's become this shell. It's like she's scared of her own voice, and I don't know what to do. She seems almost scared of me."

"Well, has she ever done anything to you? Maybe she just feels guilty or something." Edward put his head in hands and Havoc patted him on the shoulder, "I'm sure when she sees you're not mad, she'll be fine."

"I hope so, Havoc. All I want is for those two to be happy again, even if it means I never see them in my life. Van deserves that at least, doesn't he?"

"I hear you, Chief. Sometimes, I wonder if it's better being alone." They saw Hawkeye returning to the table, and Edward glanced briefly at Havoc to see the lieutenant grinning at him. "But then again, there's always someone out there, right?"

OoO

_**1918**_

She did one last check over, tightened a screw, then backed up and beamed. "There you are, brand new and better than the last one!" He stretched the leg before him for a minute, then nodded and stood. Edward pulled pants, sock, and shoe back on.

"That's great, now I can really get started."

"On what?" She asked with curiosity.

"Well, I told you I wanted a place of my own. Somewhere Al and I could live." She nodded, though with some reluctance. "I'm thinking I want to rebuild it. Our house." Winry's eyes lit up and exclaimed,

"Really?"

"I think it'd really solidify that we did it, you know? After all, it's where the whole thing started and—"

"But you'll really only be just a hill away? Oh Ed, I could kiss you!" She instead pulled him into a hug, and he felt torn between relief and—dare he even think it—disappointment. But still, it was enough, and he wrapped his own arms around her in return, chuckling a little at her excitement.

"I'm sure Al wouldn't want to leave you guys either, it's not just me." Distantly, they heard the front door opening and shoes on the floor.

"I'm back, anyone home?" Abruptly she ripped away from him, straightening her shirt, before heading out to the front room. He supposed she was just embarrassed; he was a little red himself. But after a moment, Edward went to join Winry, who was now giving a welcome-home hug to his brother.

OoO

_**1924**_

"You know, Major, I really appreciate everything you've done for me over the years."

"Thank you sir," Riza replied.

"I really mean it, Hawkeye. You have been there in times that I've needed you, and even in times when I haven't, with no complaint."

"I take pride in doing my job, sir."

"I'd like to thank you. Perhaps we could have dinner some time?"

"I'll consider it, General."

**So here we are. I hope you Winry fans appreciated the flashbacks with her. Let me know what you thought about this chapter, guys! Thanks for reading, and don't forget to review!**


	18. Chapter 18

**I apologize that updates have been coming slower, but I have become addicted to sleep recently. Combine that with a busy schedule, guilt at not updating my other stories for quite some time, and you get the full picture. I have other reasons too, but that would involve spoilers, so they go to the author's note at the bottom which you can read later. Over 100 reviews, I could die right now and be happy, thank you so much!**

**Dobby's Polka-Dotted Sock**

**Chapter Seventeen:**

**Something Stupid**

She was pacing in front of her open closet, and feeling like a fool. Riza Hawkeye had not been put in this position for a long time, trying to decide between two dresses. But, this was very important to her; it was the third consecutive Friday they had met up for dinner, and a small, yet growing part of her was beginning to interpret it as something…more. Childish as it sounded.

Oh, she knew Edward Elric was not interested in finding a woman to get to know better at the moment. He was too busy housing his nephew and his ex-girlfriend turned sister-in-law for goodness' sake. And even if he always spent the free evenings Gracia Hughes provided with her, he was not looking for anything deeper than friendly companionship.

If he was, though, she would like to be prepared.

And yet, she reminded herself, if Edward was indeed interested in finding a woman, it would be a _young_ woman. Certainly a woman younger than her. She knew it was all her fault that she was in this position, but for once it did little to reconcile her emotions. Bitterly, she remembered Rebecca time after time telling her to get a move on with her social life, to find someone while she was still young and exciting. Of course, she may have looked like a pretty face then, but no man could argue that she was beautiful underneath. Her father, and later her own request had taken care of that. Now she had no choice but to search for someone like herself, closer to her own age, such as…

There was the other issue. Even if she had tried to actively find a man, Riza had always been considered to be tied to one man and one man only: Roy Mustang. What a sympathetic character she must have made all these years! By-the-book, but kind, Riza Hawkeye eternally following after her superior, the ladies' man. Many of his supposed "girlfriends" were foster siblings, true, but Riza couldn't deny that every once and awhile, Roy had been going on a real date. She pretended it didn't hurt.

She respected him for his ideas and his dedication to his work and subordinates, but she was growing tired of waiting. And then he had mentioned dinner. Well, now what—no, who—was she supposed to choose?

Edward was refreshing, in a word. Having not spent the long years of her career with him, every conversation they had revealed something new, a little different, about his character. She hoped it worked in the reverse as well. And there was just something indefinably endearing, engaging, and simply _Edward_ about him, something she hadn't felt in a long time for Roy.

Decision made, she took a dress from the rack. It was a deep blue, modest as usual, but the hemline was slightly closer to her knees than her ankles. She could practically hear her inner Rebecca cheer.

OoO

He adjusted his tie for the umpteenth time, more hypersensitive of his own appearance and actions than he felt he had ever been. To say Edward Elric was nervous was a gross miss-estimation of his state of being.

He hadn't realized what the difference could make, having the absence of this feeling for six years. He wanted to compliment her beauty, but his throat felt far too dry to make a sound. He thought to chance reaching for her hand only across the table, and yet his own were shaking so much it was all he could do to hold the fork steady. Even concentrating on the food was impossible, his stomach was flip-flopping so. And every time he looked in her direction, his heart picked up its tempo.

Frankly put, Edward had forgotten how terrible he was at all this.

He was sure that if Riza—yes, _Riza_. In his mind, safely locked away, he could finally call her that—bothered to pay him much attention, she would think him a fool. That fact that he had even become such good friends with her was amazing in itself, and yet he had to let himself become carried away. It always seemed to happen like this. Kindness and companionship hadn't been common; it had been him and Al alone on the road. And so whenever it was shown to him, he latched onto it, sometimes to much so.

If he'd read the signs, maybe he wouldn't have been in this mess with his brother now. And yet he couldn't stop himself from feeling this warmth, this very heady feeling of _hope_ when he looked at Riza Hawkeye.

From the day he had arrived back in Central, she had been nothing but a help to him. Always looking out for him when she didn't need to, worrying, listening, and just being there when he wanted someone nearby. That's all he really wanted from a person—from a woman—if he really thought long about it. And Van really liked her…

He was beginning to realize his nephew was a more permanent guest than he had hoped for at the start, what with how slow Pinako was being in supplying the bail money for Alphonse. If things kept going this way, he needed support; he couldn't try to raise a growing kid with just him and a sister-in-law practically terrified of him.

Edward knew he was getting ahead of himself with this train of thought, but even if it didn't last, Riza could maybe show him how to begin. That would be the greatest gift he could receive at this point.

"This is quite good." He almost started when she spoke, and looked up to see her indicating her plate.

"Mine too," he agreed, which was true.

"I forgot to mention it earlier, but…you clean up quite nicely, Edward."

He swallowed, and then smiled. "Thanks, you too," then almost groaned at how casual and utterly idiotic it sounded. "Uh, I meant, uh—" He almost died when she laughed a little behind her hand. "You-you look lovely."

The hand came away from her face and her saw her smiling.

"Thank you," she spoke softly.

OoO

She was leading him the long way on the walk back to her home as they talked in their usual way. It was one of the last warm days of the fall, and so they strolled comfortably, scattering some of the brittle leaves in their path.

"How it's progressing? Well…" he paused to consider her question and Riza waited patiently. "I think, maybe not for a while, but I really think some day…we could call this government a democracy. Grumman's not a tyrant by any standards, but still, he's not exactly pushing for it, no offense," he looked uneasily at her and she knew he was thinking of her relation to their current Führer. She smiled up at him reassuringly, and his powerful shoulders relaxed again. "But, I think that more than anything, rebuilding Ishbal showed he's really the man for the job. Mustang's going to do it."

A fond sort of smile graced his features; conversely, something heavy and unpleasant coiled up inside her at the mention of the name. Roy Mustang had asked her out to dinner. After all these years. And here she was with Edward even though she had as good as agreed. She'd as good as agreed when Edward was practically a child!

"Um, this is still your apartment, right?" She hadn't noticed he had stopped, and she turned to see she had indeed walked past the steps leading to her building. She flushed in minor embarrassment which caused a warm grin to appear on his face. Together they walked up the steps.

Riza turned to bid him goodbye, a she noted with both pleasant and unpleasant feelings that they were rather close. "Thank you for dinner, Edward," she barely managed to keep herself from calling him 'sir', the title she used like a shield to hide behind. She wasn't sure what else to say, how to let him know that she couldn't—though she'd love to—not after she had already promised herself away.

"Riza?" he asked hesitantly, and she wanted to cry at how wonderful it sounded the way he said her first name. "I—I just wanted to say that, I like you. Quite a lot. And uh, well…" His face tilted down and those handsome eyes were starting to close.

"Edward!" She gasped, stepping back to meet the cool glass of the door behind her, and the younger man jumped back as if scalded, teetering on the top stair for a moment. It looked rather comical, and yet she felt a wretch for having caused it. "I _care_ about you very much. But I can't—I just can't—I've promised feelings that you desire from me to someone else, years ago.

He had regained his balance and had registered every word spoken. But he turned neither angry, nor upset. Instead, he looked exhausted. His shoulders slumped and slight creases that were the beginnings of lines became more evident on a face that suddenly looked much closer to her age than it really was.

"You—" he swallowed again that night, and tried a second time. "You did, huh?" She was biting her lip to keep tears and the sobs that would follow after at bay, so she simply nodded. It simply wouldn't be right for her to be the one to cry after all. "Well," his lips curved in a half-smile, one that barely reached his mouth let alone his eyes, "at least you told me before I did something we'd regret."

He was still standing there and she couldn't stand it any longer, so she managed a choked, "Good night."

"Good night, Major." He placed the hat that she hadn't realized was in his hand on his head, turned, and trudged down the steps.

When she reached her apartment, she would hold Hayate close and let the crying commence, not even registering the black and white dog hairs getting all over her best dress.

OoO

It was a miracle he even made it home, the catatonic state he was in. He must have crossed in front of at least six cars. Edward was almost to the first landing when the landlady's warbling tone finally caught his attention.

"Mr. Elric!"

"Wha?" was his barely enthusiastic reply.

"I've been trying to tell you, Ms. Gracia brought your sister-in-law and the boy back here, so I let them into the apartment."

He hadn't even thought about how late it was. Poor Mrs. Hughes, wasting all her Fridays while he squandered them on a false hope. False leads, false hopes, and false love. False trails were all he seemed good at following.

"Thank you, Mrs. Loftus."

"Rough night, sir?" She seemed honestly concerned. Did his face look that bad?

"Not the best." She let him continue up the stairs. He fished the key out of his pocket, unlocked his door and stepped inside his apartment.

"Let go! Ow, Mommy, let go, let go, you're scaring me!"

"Hold still, it'll be for a moment. If you'd hold still I could cut it and be done!"

Winry had one hold of Van's medium length hair with one hand and the other was wielding a pair of scissors from his kitchen drawer. Her face was twisted into a horrid mix of concentration, anger, and desperation, while her son had tears almost spilling from his eyes.

"Let go, let go!" Van pleaded again.

"They all don't understand, they all think I'm a liar," Winry ranted. "They say you're his, they think you look like him, but they're _wrong_! You _look_ like your _father_! But why can't you look more like him? Why can't you?" She yanked and Van's head was brought closer to the blade. "Mommy's just helping you look like Daddy, sweetie. It's all right," she whispered.

"Winry, _stop_!" His right hand clamped down on to her left shoulder, and she whirled about with a frightened scream.

"Daddy!" Van cried, mouth agape and eyes huge.

"Just go to your room. Just go and get some sleep."

"But- but Da—but Uncle Ed—!"

"Please go to sleep, Van." The little boy stood trembling for a moment staring at him, but was out of the room and slamming the bedroom door in the next instant. Edward thought he heard the lock click, too.

Her wide blue eyes were still locked on his, and they stood there like that for some time.

"I thought he'd come home," she finally spoke, very hushed but with more feeling than he'd heard from her this whole time. "But it wasn't him. It was _you_." He could only nod. "But, you- you understand, don't you? He looks so much like his father. I just want him to look more like him. Then people will see. They'll see that he's his father's son. He just looks too much like _you_!" She sobbed then, collapsing against him. Edward managed to support her with his left arm, unable to do much else. "Why does he look like you? He _shouldn't_! He's not yours! I'm not a bad person, he only has _one_ father!"

"Shh, shh, I know Winry. I understand, I do." He was sure Van wouldn't sleep as long as she kept this weeping, howling train of words up. She finally quieted and then pulled away. There were dark red splotches on her face and so he gave her a napkin to use.

After some time of blowing her nose, wiping at her face and eyes, she wandered out to the sitting room and dropped like a stone on the couch. Gingerly he lifted the blanket up and over her, taking it as a good sign that she was breathing so deeply. He could only hope she'd sleep through the night.

Edward stood over the sink in the kitchen, face scrunched up and teeth clenched so as not to make a sound while he wrenched the scissors out from where they had plunged into his shoulder. The next day all the napkins would be gone, used to soak up the blood.

**I took so long with this chapter because I kept writing and rewriting bits. I'm not sure if it's perfect, but I've made you guys wait long enough. I don't think I've ever wanted feedback as much so please guys; let me know what you thought of it. Thank you so, so much for reading, and please review!**


	19. Chapter 19

**Okay, terribly sorry to have left it on that chapter for so long, but here is an update! I'm so happy so many people are reading and are very interested in this story, its mind boggling really. Thank you so much!**

**Dobby's Polka-Dotted Sock**

**Chapter Eighteen:**

**Present Fiction**

She pushed open the office door to find the second-last person she wanted to see sitting in the chair in front of the General's desk.

"So you like dogs. Is that because people call you that?"

"I'm sorry, Van, I don't quite understand the question." Roy Mustang sat in his chair, the essence of calm except for the occasional downward twitch of an eyebrow, as Van Elric scribbled something in a notebook.

"Well, sometimes I hear people say stuff like Dog of the Military, and Uncle Ed says they're talking about alchemists."

"That's true."

"And you're alchemist, General Mustang."

"I was aware."

"So is that why you like dogs?"

"No," was the short answer, but her superior took a deep breath and decided to clarify. "I like dogs because they are very loyal and obedient creatures. They stay by you no matter what."

"Yeah, I think so, too. I had a dog once. Well," Van tapped the pencil against his chin as he reconsidered. "it was Granny's dog, really. But he played with me all the time. His name was Den, and he had an automail leg! That was really cool! Did you know that, General?"

"Yes, I believe I met this 'Den' once."

"That's really cool, I wish I'd known him longer. But he was really old, that's what Granny said, and he's gone now. I was there when Uncle Ed came back to bury him for Granny, and it was really sad. I was really sad because Mommy made it."

Mustang actually looked back up from the report he was reading to ask, "Made what?"

"The leg. It was the only thing Mommy made that I've ever seen. It was really awesome, too."

"The only thing, hm?" Mustang repeated, catching Riza's eye for a moment, and she knew he was expecting her to remember it. "What about Fullmetal's leg?"

"What?"

"Your uncle's leg, Van. Who made it? Pinako?"

"I…don't get it, General." Could it be that Van didn't know about Edward's automail? Did that mean he didn't know anything about his father and uncle's past?

All this talk of Edward was making her quite uncomfortable and guilt-ridden, so she walked forward and placed the papers on Mustang's desk.

"Oh, hi Major Hawkeye!" She barely contained a wince, but smiled politely at the boy. "I haven't seen you in _forever_, did you get moved out of Uncle Ed's office?" She could feel the General's questioning gaze on her back, but managed a reply.

"No, Van, things have just been a little busy around here. I'm trusting the others not to slack off in my absence."

"Oh, okay. Well, I was wondering—"

"I'm sorry, Van, but I have some more papers to retrieve." She was glad when she finally reached the door.

"Okay, bye! General, I have one more question…what's your favorite color?"

OoO

It was true; she hadn't returned to Colonel Elric's office ever since that night, and was purposely avoiding him. Riza felt like nothing more than a foolish coward, yet she honestly did not know what she would do if she saw him again. What would happen? Would he narrow his eyes at her, look hurt, or just ignore her? She didn't know which would be worse.

Later that afternoon, she was packing up and had grabbed her coat, when the General called out to her from his office. She entered and asked, "Sir?"

"Hawkeye, I was wondering. Would Saturday be alright?"

"Saturday, sir?" She blinked.

"For dinner."

Dinner. One of the reasons she had rejected Edward was this dinner. How could she have possibly forgotten? "Of course, sir," she heard herself say.

"Very well, I'll pick you up at seven."

"Yes, sir."

OoO

"Uncle Ed?" he glanced up from the desk to see Van standing there in his pajamas. "I know we returned the fairytale book, but do you think you could tell me a story?"

He really had been neglecting his nephew lately. And he supposed the place looked somewhat alien these days. Not only was the place spotless, he'd transmuted locks onto every drawer, cabinet, and cupboard regardless if they carried knives or paper. It had been foolish of him to think that he had known what he was doing. As if he could be a proper guardian! His apartment had been a hazard and yet he'd let Van stay in it all this time.

"Sure, why not?" He said and stood from the desk, following the kid into his bedroom. Van snuggled down into the covers and watched him expectantly. "Ok, a story…about what?"

"About alchemists!"

"What kind of alchemist?"

"Like, the bestest, most heroic alchemist ever!"

"Uh-huh…that's a tall order, Van," he pointed out, but then thought of something…tall.

"Okay, I got it. There was—"

"Once upon a time," Van was kind enough to remind him once again.

"Right, I forgot. Once upon a time, there was an incredible alchemist. He was called the Gentle Armor Giant."

"The Gentle Armor Giant?"

"Yep."

"Why was he called that?" Edward wondered if this whole story would be nothing but questions, but answered.

"He was called that because he wore a huge suit of armor. He had to because—well, one of his very good friends had gotten into terrible trouble and so he wore it as a sacrifice to save him."

"Really?" Van's eyes were huge and he looked both sad and in awe.

"Yeah. So that's why he wore the armor. But he was the kindest person anyone had ever met. He loved helping people, no matter who they were, and couldn't stand to see anyone get hurt. He was always polite and cheerful, despite having this huge burden placed on him by his br—his friend."

"Wow. What kind of stuff did he do? Was he an awesome alchemist?"

"One of the finest. He could draw transmutation circles with ease, faster than any other alchemist around. And he would use his armor to protect people from harm and- and house cats."

"House cats?"

"Well sure, there was room in his armor, and he felt bad for them because they were strays."

"So he had a lot of cats?"

"No, because his friend wouldn't let him keep them."

"That's mean. Why did he stay with his friend if he caused all that trouble and wouldn't let him do nice things?" Van asked innocently. Edward could only shrug.

"It's hard to understand, Van. But he really was that good."

"What did he study alchemy for?"

"Well, he wanted to be free of the armor someday, and he wanted to help his friend, who had made a sacrifice himself that was not nearly as great. They hoped to return to normal. They learned all kinds of things along the way, and met all kinds of people. And A—the Gentle Armor Giant became so good at alchemy, and understood it so deeply, he eventually didn't need to use circles to transmute."

"Wow," Van began, but then yawned widely. "Did he become free?"

"Yeah," Ed told him with a tender, genuine smile. Van smiled back as his eyes began to close.

"That's good; he lived happily ever after…I wish I could meet him."

"Maybe you will," Edward said, and after a pause, reached out and patted the child on the shoulder. He stood quietly, turned out the light, and left the room.

OoO

"I can't believe it, it's actually happened?"

"What's happened?" Riza asked the phone. She had just finished making her dinner when the phone rang. It was Rebecca who called.

"Well, I heard through the rumor mill you're going to dinner with Mustang!"

"Oh," Riza said, was that honestly all her life was about anymore? "Yes, yes I am."

"You know, you could sound at least a little more excited," her old friend from the Academy pointed out.

"It's a simple dinner, Rebecca, that's all." Why did she keep going back and forth on this? She had thought she was decided, and yet she was so reluctant to call it what everyone else apparently was: a date.

"Riza, you and I both know it's never just dinner with Roy Mustang." She couldn't come up with a response to that. Was that honestly what her friend though of her? Rebecca continued, "Anyway, since I doubt you haven't updated your closet, I would go with the deep blue dress, you know which one I'm talking about?" Riza glanced at said garment, which sat in a heap on the floor.

"I can't, it needs dry-cleaned."

"What? Why? Have you two been secretly seeing each other or something? Tell me!" She could hear that Rebecca was enjoying this conversation immensely.

"No," she sighed and gave no further detail. She was sure her friend was pouting on the other end of the line.

"Alright then. Not to sound rude, Riza, but remember this is your one chance! Neither of us is getting any younger."

"Yes, Rebecca."

"Hey, is something the matter? You sound kind of…depressed." Riza shook her head. Rebecca was one of her only friends, but she didn't really want to talk about what had happened.

"I'm fine."

"You sure? Okay, well, I'm going out to dinner on my own date tonight. Wish me luck!"

She hoped Rebecca was faring better than herself. "Good luck." And they both hung up.

Why couldn't she bring herself to look forward to Saturday as much as she used to look forward to Friday?

**Aaaaand, I finished this earlier than expected, so here you go! I really love reading your responses to my chapters, so thanks for all the support so far! I'm glad you've all kept reading, and please review!**


	20. Chapter 20

**Oh my god. You guys have officially made this the most reviewed story I have ever written. Can I possibly say thank you enough?**

**Dobby's Polka-Dotted Sock**

**Chapter Nineteen:**

**Romantic Respite**

"Riza? What are you—never mind, come in." A hand that was soft and yet well worn from washing dishes, folding laundry, and cooking food reached out and guided her, trembling, into the house. It was dark and the woman bent to turn on the living room lamp as she sank into an armchair, smoothing out the wrinkles of her long, dark gown.

Gracia Hughes sat down then across from her on the couch, looking at her in bewilderment and concern. She realized how strange this must seem; showing up uninvited and late at night dressed as though to go out, on an acquaintance's doorstep who she hadn't seen in some years. But as she'd wandered up and down streets she'd found herself here, and was honestly so tired and distraught it seemed the best choice.

"Do you need anything? Is something the matter?" The woman gently prompted.

"Oh, everything's the matter," she burst out suddenly, but fortunately didn't cry. "I've just been so confused—and now I fear I've made a terrible mistake."

"What happened? I- well I heard about, ah, Edward." That admission from the other nearly set the tears in motion.

"You're going to think me a terrible person, Gracia. I rejected Edward because I felt that I was already too involved with someone else. And now—I've rejected Roy Mustang fro the same reason!" Gracia's eyes widened, but that was the only sign she gave of her feelings. She stood and knelt by the military woman and placed a comforting hand upon her shoulder.

"Tell me whatever you feel comfortable with; it sounds like a dreadful burden."

"It's just I've waited so long for the General—for Roy—to _do_ something, and recently along the way, I realized that I'd already grown tired of that wait. Edward made me realize that any type of real romantic feelings have been lost to all those years. I respect him, of course. We have the same ideals, and I trust him with my life. But, I suppose, I can't trust him with my heart anymore." It sounded like foolish babbling to her own ears, but Gracia was nodding along in sympathy and gave a sigh.

"Maes loved Roy like a brother, but he always said that was his one failing. Roy Mustang has never really learned the right way to treat a woman. It's not all his fault, really, but I understand. If my husband had had that type of reputation when I met him, I don't think I would have ever said yes to a date."

She favored Riza with a slight smile. "But just because you've promised to protect Roy and follow him on his path to the top, doesn't mean you have to give your entire _being_ to him. His other subordinates haven't. It wouldn't be fair to expect anything different from you."

And something tight within her chest seemed to relinquish its hold upon her. When she had stood abruptly from the table and apologized quickly to Roy Mustang's perplexed expression, Riza had felt the tiniest bit guilty. Even with this new ease about her, she hardly felt any better than she had the past week.

"You're still thinking of Edward, aren't you?" Riza turned sharply to Gracia's knowing gaze and simply nodded. "Well, I really don't know what to say about that one, Riza. He's- Edward's not the most open of people."

Riza almost felt like wailing, "I _know_!" in despair, but contained herself.

"I think, well, you did hurt him. And I don't know if that can be taken back. But I do know that Edward is a resilient young man. And he seems to have outgrown grudges. So avoiding him only makes things more awkward. I would apologize, but not ask anything of him." She knew it was sound advice, but still couldn't help feeling slightly depressed.

"I should have known better. I'm not even the first to have ever—"

"No, I think he respects you for letting him know you weren't prepared for such a commitment. It's more warning than he's received in the past, from what I gather," her host interrupted.

She looked around the room with a sudden thought. Elysia would be in bed, but didn't Gracia tend to keep Winry over the weekend?

Riza managed to voice her question. "Where is Winry?"

"I suppose you really have been avoiding him, then. Edward took Winry to the hospital last Saturday; he said she had some sort of nervous panic attack and he wanted her to see a doctor."

"A panic attack?" Riza asked, in some disbelief. She had only heard that Winry was acting very subdued and quiet.

"It's such a shame, I really thought she might get better. This might sound an odd question, but could you visit her for me on Monday? I have to go to a parent-teacher conference for Elysia, but I think she's gotten used to the visits."

She supposed it was the least she could do in a remote way to begin assisting Edward once more. And she had been rather curious to see Winry herself for some time, but had been unable to bring herself to visit while she was at the apartment. Perhaps she had felt as though while the former Rockbell dwelled there, a phantom of her familiarity with the blond alchemist would hover in the air. Yet now she found herself readying to battle against becoming Edward's second phantom.

"Of course. It's very late, I'm so sorry to have bothered you, Gracia."

"Not at all, I'm happy to help friends. Come again anytime, I'm sure Elysia would be happy to see you as well."

OoO

"Hey, you in there?" A snapping noise almost made him jump in his seat, before he remembered there was no reason for alarm; it was only when the snapper was himself that people were in danger.

"Hm? Oh, Fullmetal, what is it?" He asked the younger vaguely.

"Just got some papers for you," his subordinate plopped both files and forms on his desk. Roy sighed, and took up his pen again.

"First time I've seen you out and about of your office for a week," he commented.

"Well, I guess I needed to move my legs," was the reply. Roy didn't even skim the last form; he wanted to finish this housekeeping before his current thought slipped away.

"About your legs, Fullmetal," he began, "your nephew seems to be under the impression that you have two of them."

"Um, well he'd be correct. Walking would be difficult without them, you know?" He raised an eyebrow at the man standing before his desk, but chose not to comment on that particular dig.

"Two flesh legs, Fullmetal." Edward titled his head in confusion; so he wasn't aware of the mix-up? But then why—

"Well, he's never really seen my foot, I guess. And I wasn't really a well discussed topic at the dinner table in Resembool," Edward shrugged and continued, "I guess Pinako never really mentioned it."

"How much does Van know about you and your brother, anything that you did before he was born?"

"To my knowledge, hardly anything. Al's not much in the mood to tell stories these days. I don't know, my leg isn't really important." Roy could disagree, but decided to let it go.

"If you say so, there are your forms."

"Thanks. And what's with you today? Are you holding up paperwork on purpose or are you just distracted?"

"I've just been thinking some, that's all." He had been thinking a lot this weekend.

"Well, that's a good thing, I guess," the other alchemist replied with a bit of a grin.

"Hilarious. Now find someone else to bother with your free time." Roy turned his chair to face back toward the window.

This Monday was hardly different from any in the past month, the past years. And yet, he was still thinking.

"_I'm sorry, sir, but I can't continue like this," she had said suddenly, standing and leaving him alone in the restaurant._

He'd felt surprised, and even a little hurt, and yet Roy couldn't bring himself to anger. Looking back, it should have been fairly obvious this would happen. He'd left Riza Hawkeye hanging by the thread of hope for so long it had finally snapped.

In a small measure, he felt relieved. Roy had never been good with romantic commitment; he'd grown up in a foster home-bar for goodness' sake. Riza was one of his closest companions, and if he were honest with himself, Roy wasn't sure he would trust himself to make her happy.

To know that she was supporting him out of more than some kind of long-standing crush or attraction was comforting, and gave him reassurance for his goal. She had proven that by bringing him his coffee that morning, just as always, with the same sharp salute and efficiency.

So maybe Roy wasn't the perfect politician, a President with his First Lady. What he had were men and women standing behind him equally giving him their trust and confidence in his ability to change their country for the better. And he could ask for nothing more.

However, Roy had absentmindedly given Edward the permission he needed to take his advice. The younger alchemist was indeed planning on bothering someone else, but he had not had the clearance until the General signed the form.

It was time to talk with Alphonse.

**Yeah….I know you all hate me now. But, I've got to go study, so I'm leaving it at that. This chapter was kind of to mostly resolve the Riza-romance conflict, as it is not the primary focus of this story. I hope my reasons for why Royai is not working in this story were suitable enough for any stalwart fans. I'm personally a fan of the pairing myself; however in this context, the romantic spark has kind of faded over the years into simple platonic partnership, which is still an important thing to have in your life. Let me know how you thought I did! Thank you for reading, and don't forget to leave a review! **


	21. Chapter 21

**Well guys, at long last I bring you the new chapter. I won't bore you with all my various computer troubles, but Happy Holidays, and enjoy!**

**Dobby's Polka-Dotted Sock**

**Chapter Twenty:**

**Confrontational**

It wasn't a scheduled visit, so Edward was merely let into the hallway lined with various cells. It seemed his brother was the only occupant for whatever reason; perhaps other people's relatives were more generous with their money. Alphonse looked up as the door slammed behind him, and though his eyes narrowed he did not immediately start shouting, a good sign in Edward's opinion.

"What do you want? Took you long enough to sneak here."

"Yeah, well, I seem to recall you telling me I should stop doing things like this on numerous occasions. You being treated alright?" He couldn't help but worry. There were a lot of people furious at the attack on their People's Alchemist.

His brother scoffed. "And you care?" Edward couldn't help but sigh and remove his hat to run a hand through his hair, a well-practiced gesture at this point.

"Believe it or not, I still do."

"I find it hard to believe, you caring about me. After all, you didn't take my feeling into consideration much back then."

"I didn't realize you had feelings for her in the first place, Alphonse. Can't you believe it was an honest mistake?" He didn't know why he even bothered to come; his brother hardly listened to anything he said now. But something else seemed to spark behind Alphonse's eyes this time.

"How am I supposed to believe such weak pleading as this? Make me believe it, if I were anyone else you'd have knocked my teeth in by now. What is it you want to say to me, huh? What's on your brilliant mind, where's Ed's temper now? Don't use Colonel's words with me!"

"Why?" The word burst from his lips, and suddenly he knew what exactly to say, to _shout_ at his brother. "Why are you being like this? You have a wife, a son, a home—God, Al, you have a _family_! And just _look_ at yourself, sitting in this cell—"

"I haven't been able to look at myself in a long time. Say, fourteen years," he spat, and Edward stumbled back a step as though slapped. "It's a family that doesn't want me, why would I want it?"

He almost wanted to throw his hat to the ground in frustration. "She loves you! Really," he said when the other looked away, "far more than she could have loved me. What would she want with a man who could only ever make her happy by accident? And he'd love to be your son if you'd let him!" He said this pointedly.

But of course, Alphonse retorted, "Why would I want to baby-sit a kid who might not be mine?"

_Enough_. "It is literally, scientifically, physically, and in all other senses, impossible for Van to be my son!" He stood, panting, fists clenched at his sides. He wasn't sure when the last time was he had screamed something so loud. Alphonse stared at him with eyes slowly widening, almost looking as child-like as his son. His heart seemed to be pounding much too hard, and he swallowed once or twice before continuing.

"There, is that what you've wanted from me? An absolute humiliation?"

After a moment, his brother snapped out of his state of shock. "And, you never said this until now—"

"Because I thought maybe you could trust me! I mean, where did that go?" But he had obviously touched some kind of nerve.

"Trust you? After everything? You think I'm crazy? How, Ed, _how_ do you expect me to trust you after you went and—"

"It was my choice—"

"Ha! Of course, _your_ fault, _your_ sin, _your_ burden, _your_ choice, never mind what I think! And now I can't look at myself even still because you just had to—"

"You think I asked for you to do anything for me either? Yeah, just forget the fact you scared me half to death with that stunt—"

"Well, you're both scaring the guards half to death with all this yelling." Edward winced and didn't even bother to turn around. He knew he would be caught eventually; after all, his commander wasn't stupid. Alphonse exhaled, and shrunk back, finally sitting back down on the bench in his cell. "Let's go, Fullmetal."

He wordlessly followed the dark haired General from the jail and all the way back to his office. Edward hardly felt different from the many times he'd been called in during his teenage years, and had a feeling it was going to play out about the same.

"So," Mustang finally said. "You sneak in a permission form to go see your very volatile brother who has a very large grudge against you at the moment for what reason?"

He opened his mouth once, shut it, shrugged, and finally said, "I thought maybe somehow I could help? I don't know. But I can't just do nothing about him." Mustang was still frowning when he at last let out a sigh.

"Edward…well, just think about what you did, I guess. I can't really just scold you anymore, can I? You're your own man; any kind of filial sway I might have held I threw away. A bit foolish, really." Edward couldn't help but look at him in shock. "I'm afraid out of all things I valued family far too little." His superior seemed lost in thought for a moment before glancing at him once more. "You're dismissed; Van needs to be picked up, doesn't he?"

He stood with a sort of uncomfortable nod at the man, ready to simply leave, but stopped at the door.

"You hold more sway than the real one ever did." Mustang blinked, before a real smile came to his face.

OoO

Riza decided to take her lunch with her on this trip. She wasn't sure what exactly she would say to the other woman, but Gracia seemed to think that Winry Elric simply needed some company during the day for a little. When let into the room, she saw her sitting on the bed, hands playing some with the blanket.

"Miss Winry," she began, but as the other turned to face her, she corrected herself, "Mrs. Elric, I thought I might come to see how you were doing." The young woman gave a small smile, which she took as a good sign. She sat in the chair next to the bed and cast around for something to say. But the other beat her to it.

"Gracia says that you've been helping Edward settle in. How is he?" Riza paused, unsure how to respond. What exactly did Winry feel towards Edward anyway? And how could she not know how he was, considering she had been a guest in his home until recently. "He hardly spoke to me. I- I thought it was funny, how we both were tip-toeing around his house." Another smile was playing at her lips.

"He's alright, I suppose. I little—"

"Tired? Unhappy? He was always like that. Such a temper, but that quiet depression was all his mother, you know. And so old-fashioned!" She laughed, but it wasn't that same cheerful tone Riza remembered hearing from the girl in the past. "Why, I thought he'd never notice me! But he did, wild and unapproachable as I was at times."

She shifted uncomfortably, not sure if she wanted all this information. Winry still babbled on, though. "He was so slow. It was ridiculous. I still loved him."

Riza's voice seemed stuck, but she cleared her throat to ask, "Do- do you now?"

Winry blinked, and quieted for a minute, hands fumbling with the blanket. "How could you expect me to? A man like that, it'd be exhausting, wouldn't it?" She was mumbling now, and Riza strained her ears to listen. "And," her voice shook a little as it grew again in volume, "I love my husband, who can't even bother to care for his brother anymore. That says something, right? Alphonse smiled at me, made me laugh and be happy. He didn't leave and make me _cry_." She dabbed at her eyes with the blanket.

"Alphonse—devoted himself to me. He knew what I wanted, what a young woman wanted. And he gave it all, freely." Riza flushed red at this candid revelation. "Anyway, it's not my fault he hid how broken he was inside from me- from Ed. But still, he's been far better to me. If only he could be kinder to Van. But I don't like to scold him, I don't like fighting anymore. It's so exhausting, makes me think of him, which makes me sad and then I _cry_. He never liked it when I cried, but how can anyone be as strong as to not cry? Then they get old and tired, and unhappy."

"I think, you can cry if you want to," she found herself saying. "I don't think either of them would mind.

Winry sniffed. "You really think so?"

"Of course. And I really think he has forgiven you. And Alphonse."

"Oh…that'd be so nice. Maybe someday, you think he might let us back in?"

"Let you back in what?" She had thought maybe now would be a good time to leave, but she was thrown for a loop once again.

"His heart. He clutters it so much with the dead and dying, it's hard to fit. Why Van's just about the only one, maybe Granny." She could hardly speak for a long time, and the silence stretched.

"I don't think you ever left it." Winry smiled and snuggled down into the covers, as though to sleep. Riza wasn't sure what else to do except leave, but Winry said one more thing.

"That's why he's so unhappy, I suppose."

"I suppose so," she replied, before leaving the hospital.

OoO

"Major Hawkeye!" Van exclaimed with a bright smile from the office doorway. Edward blinked in surprise at seeing her there at last. She greeted Van then met his eyes with a tentative smile. He couldn't help but smile back. "Are things not as busy in General Mustang's office?"

"No Van," she replied. Edward wasn't sure what exactly this was about, but felt glad his life had returned to about as normal as possible. Maybe he wasn't meant to have some kind of woman by his side, but at least he had a team to depend on. It seemed almost better, really.

"Where you been, Hawkeye?" Havoc asked as he entered behind them, twirling the keys around his finger.

"Well, this afternoon I stopped by the hospital."

"Really? I was there yesterday!" Van gushed, excited at the coincidence. "I've never been to one before, so it was really cool. But the kids at school all hate going to the doctor's cause they have to get poked at an' stuff and they say it's really boring."

Edward slapped a hand to his forehead, muttering, "Some guardian I am," not for the first time. "Van, you've never had a check-up, have you?" The boy shook his head and Edward sighed. "Well, I guess we'll do that this week."

"Oh yeah, the teacher said something about that! A bunch of kids have colds and are sneezing and—"

"Great," Edward said and Havoc laughed from his chair. "Did I ask for your input?" He asked, not at all threatening, and the other merely chuckled a little more quietly.

"You might want to get checked out too, sir," Breda commented casually, though there was an slight accusatory edge to it that Edward felt could not bode well. "You've been favoring your non-dominant arm recently." Edward stopped himself from flinching at the extremely accurate observation, but couldn't stop Van from frowning and looking ready to cry.

"Just a slight accident, Breda, don't worry about it."

"I do, though."

Edward sighed under the concerned gazes of everyone in the room. "Start on your homework, okay Van?" The child nodded and scurried into the inner office, shutting the door. Edward undid the first two buttons of his shirt and pulled the fabric away from his right shoulder. Hawkeye placed a hand to her mouth, Falman's eyebrows raised, Breda sat foreword in his chair, Fuery yelped, and Havoc almost swallowed his unlit cigarette. "I surprised her while she was holding scissors. That's it." They stared even after the buttons were refastened, and Hawkeye went for a telephone.

"I'll make an appointment at once, sir."

"Thanks, Major," he sighed, heading for his office where he would take a leaf from Mustang's book and pretend to work while actually sleeping off the exhausting day.

OoO

"Thanks, Doctor!" Van said to the older man, who he had initially been so scared of Edward had had to get a check-up himself to show the boy that nothing bad would happen. It was a little funny, he had to admit, and fortunately Granny had kept Van up to date on his shots so Edward didn't have to go through _that_ fiasco. "Now can I get a pretzel?" Van stared up at him eagerly, and he simply nodded. His nephew zoomed off down the hall and he shrugged apologetically at the doctor.

"Sorry, he's kind of a handful. Anything you need to tell me?" He hoped it was short. He wouldn't out it past Van to try and sneak more than one pretzel.

OoO

Perhaps because he was so accustomed to it, Edward didn't really notice Van tugging on his arm back to the apartment or the looks from passing people. Van skipped up two stairs at a time while he trudged along at a slower pace. How could a pretzel provide that much energy? He was almost envious.

He collapsed into his chair by the desk, not having much appetite, and quietly dialed the number for Rockbell Automail while the boy shuffled around the kitchen.

"Pinako, I think it's time."

**So there we are. I really hope it was good, and worth the wait. Let me know what you guys think? Your feedback makes me happier than anything. So thank you for reading, and please review!**


	22. Chapter 22

**And since it's my break, here's the next chapter. Thanks for all the reviews, guys, it means a lot to me!**

**Dobby's Polka-Dotted Sock**

**Chapter Twenty-One:**

**Home is Where**

"Van? I'd, uh, like to talk about something before you go to bed," Edward began, and Van turned from where he was placing his dirty plate in the sink with curious eyes. He gestured for the boy to sit and so he jumped back into his chair.

"What is it, Uncle Ed?" Came the perfectly innocent question, and yet Edward found himself hesitating.

"Well, you know your dad's been waiting on the bail money from Granny, right?" Van nodded, frowning a little at this unexpected turn. "She's uh, got that together now, so he can go home soon, and you mother. When that happens, I think they'd like to take you back with them."

"What? B-but, Uncle Ed, I like living here with you! It's fun and I have lots of friends and—"

"I know Van," Edward cut in, not completely sure how to stem the panicked flood of words. "But, they're you're family, and they do care about you. Come- come here," he offered while holding out his arms, for the child had begun to sniffle and turn away. Van threw himself easily into his arms, his own small hands grasping the front of Edward's shirt. "Sometimes, it might not seem like it, but your mother really does try to show how much she cares. You just need to encourage her to open back up and smile, she has a real beautiful smile, Van. It makes all the bad times worth it to see it." He glanced down to see his nephew nod to these words, showing he understood.

"And Alphonse," he continued, "wants so desperately to be your father; I know he does even if he's not certain of it himself. Give him some time, okay? He just needs to learn what being a dad is all about, and he'll be great at it after that. He was always a fast learner. Everything I taught him he picked up in no time. He was my first and best friend, you know that Van?" The boy stared up at him with wide eyes, not comprehending of a time when his father and uncle got along. "He was friends with everybody, actually. I hope someday that can be a reality, and not just some story."

"Van, they both love you so much," he said finally, hoping the child might understand and accept it. But Van suddenly seemed to choke on whatever noise he had been holding in his throat, and the sobs came out.

"But I love _you_, Uncle Edward!" He managed between his cries. Edward sighed and patted him comfortingly on the back.

"I know, Van, I know."

OoO

He felt tired, hungry, and miserable sitting in this cold, hard plastic chair. And yet he cherished it because today was the last day he would sit in this seat with everyone he had come to know around him. So Van tried his hardest to focus on Corey's presentation instead of his sadness. After all, he would get to see Granny again soon.

But it was hard to pay attention quietly to a presentation about his dad.

They had two more days of presentations on famous alchemists to go, and while he was annoyed that he would miss the one about his uncle, he was even more upset that the last one he had to hear was about his own dad. And Corey didn't seem to be doing a very good job. He just kept pointing at his poster board, which had a couple of sentences scribbled on it.

"So he was a total meanie, and- and he didn't like showing his face around people," Corey was saying.

"How's that?" Asked David at the front.

"Well, he wore this big metal thing—my Auntie gave me this." Corey passed a very old newspaper clipping that had yellowing edges and looked as though it had been jammed into Corey's pocket that morning. When it got to Van's desk, the boy very nearly avoided gasping out loud. A picture had been printed in the paper of a suit of armor just standing there, and shaking hands with a smiling man, while others gathered around him. A looked as though they were congratulating it and another person Van couldn't make out very well over something. The other person in the center of the group was obscured because they were too short to be seen behind the person in front of them.

That wasn't surprising, though. What was surprising to Van was that the first words that had come to his mind upon seeing the picture were _"The Gentle Armor Giant!"_. But it couldn't be…could it?

_"I wish I could meet him."_

_"Maybe you will."_

His father was the Gentle Armor Giant? He really was good.

"But anyways, he was just really, really mean, and uh- uhm…he—"

"He wasn't mean! Where's your proof?" Everyone in the class looked around at the sudden outburst, and Van found himself shocked to discover it had been him to rise and speak. Corey was looking very confused, but seemed to recover.

"Well, he broke into the military, didn't he?"

"So? People- people make mistakes! That doesn't mean you should go around calling them meanies! An- and he did a lot of good stuff, too!"

"Oh yeah?" Van paused with all those eyes on him, but then thought back on what had been in the story.

"Yeah, he, well he was always there for his friends. An- and, he was always nice, even when he wasn't feeling okay. And he kept stray cats!"

The teacher seemed to be trying not to smile for some strange reason, as she asked, "Who told you about all these things, Van?"

"My uncle," he answered promptly. Corey seemed to think of something, though.

"Well, didn't they have a fight? So, how can all that be true?" It was a daunting question, and all the other kids seemed to be waiting for the answer.

"Well- well, _every_ family has fights, don't they? No family can be perfect, right? But that's the thing. Because even though they can get mad at each other, and fight an' stuff, they- they still—love—each other…"

And long after the bell rang for the end of the day, Van though and thought about what he had said, and what his Uncle Edward's words had really meant.

OoO

Edward stood by a pillar in the station, while some distance away the little family of three were gathered by the side of the recently arrived train that would carry them back to green fields and fresh air. If Alphonse knew he was there, he ignored him and instead lifted his wife's luggage onto the train. Winry herself seemed surprised at the helpful gesture, and shyly thanked him.

They looked about ready to board when suddenly Van turned and ran back towards him. Edward suppressed a groan, preparing to begin a long, hard argument, but the little boy merely hugged him tightly and stepped back.

"Thank you, Uncle Ed. I'll miss you," he sniffed once, but his eyes stayed dry, and Edward patted him warmly on the head.

"Me too, Van," he managed, and gestured back to where his parents were waiting. The boy returned to them, and he gave a simple nod, before spinning on his heel and leaving the station. When he reached the outside Havoc was waiting in the car right where he had dropped them off.

Edward slid into the passenger seat, but the Lieutenant did not immediately start the engine, instead continuing to look at him.

"Yes, Havoc?" He finally asked.

"Uh—nothing, Chief," the older man said and hurriedly turned the key in the ignition. As they pulled away from the station, they distinctly heard a train whistle blow and the sound of metal wheels churning down a track. "You know…I'm really going to miss the little guy," he remarked, and Edward simply nodded.

**So, kind of short, but yeah. This is NOT the end, if any of you guys are freaking out. One more important thing has yet to be resolved. Let me know what you thought, guys. Thanks for reading, and please review!**


	23. Chapter 23

**Well, here's another chapter for you all to end the year. It really has gone by. I think I started this in October? I never expected so many positive reviews and all the support. It's certainly made my 2011 one of the best years, so thank you all so much!**

**Dobby's Polka-Dotted Sock**

**Chapter Twenty-Two:**

**Summon the Strength**

He felt both surprised and unsurprised when he looked up to see Mustang standing in his doorway for a change. Edward set aside Fuery's requisition form for new radio parts, and gestured somewhat uncertainly to the chair in front of his desk. As far as he could recall, he had always been the visitor. The older man came fully into the room and sat, silently waiting for his subordinate to address him.

"Did you, uh, need something?" Edward asked, though he had a feeling not. Mustang would have just sent someone with whatever it was he had to do.

"You sent him back. Why?" It wasn't quite an accusation. No, Roy Mustang simply seemed to be incredulous. He wasn't the only one. Edward purposefully hadn't told anyone but Gracia about Van's leaving beforehand. So when he and Havoc had returned without the bright bundle of energy, his entire office had been caught completely off guard.

"He's not mine, I can't force them to let me keep him," Edward pointed out. "And I'm on rocky enough ground with Alphonse as it is, no need to add something like refusing a parent's custody of their child to that." His commanding officer nodded as it was true; in any sort of legal battle, Edward would lose.

"Was Van upset?"

Edward sighed. "Yeah, a little," and didn't respond to Mustang's raised eyebrow. "He should get to know his parents. It'll be good for all of them." He offered a confident smile.

They both knew how difficult it was to keep that smile in place.

"Right well, since you have much more time on your hands, that's reminded me of your punishment for tricking me earlier this week," the General said with a smirk.

"I was waiting for the other shoe to drop," Edward muttered.

"I want you to look at some of these case files. Terrorists, rogue alchemists, they're all in there. It's quite a bit of work, but someone of your intelligence would certainly be a help." He was offering him something to tear into, bury himself in, a way to show that things could just continue on.

"Well, I guess I deserve it for trying to pull one over on you," he said in reply. Mustang stood, placed the stack of files on the desk and made his way to the door, which he opened. Before leaving, he turned one more time to speak.

"Well, I certainly hope you're up to the challenge, Fullmetal," he said in a slightly louder tone.

Edward stood to continue the charade put on for the benefit of the team; after all, it would do them all good to think he was fine. "Are you kidding? These will be done before you know it!"

As the door closed behind the dark-haired man, Edward's confident smirk slipped from his face as he placed a hand on the desk to steady himself. He'd stood too quickly and was seeing stars. He supposed moving too fast after sitting in a chair and pretending to work for hours did that to a person. Lowering himself more carefully into his seat, he glanced up again at the knock on his door.

"Come in," he said and Hawkeye entered, carrying a cup of black coffee in her hand.

"I thought you might need this, sir, after the day you've put in." He stared at the mug set on his desk, but didn't immediately reach for it. Edward knew he did need the energy; these cases he had been asked to look at were important, and could not be neglected because he had lost sleep.

"Thanks, Hawkeye," he said, and then took a large gulp of the beverage. Now he could at least burn through a few more evening hours. To be honest, he was used to taking Van home early, and so was oddly unused to the quiet, more tranquil feel of Headquarters.

Seeing she was still standing before his desk, he sighed and said, "There's not much I could have done, even if I had tried. Winry and Alphonse are his parents; they had every right to take him back home with them. And it's what I wanted, anyway."

"Is it?" She asked quietly.

"It's not like I had many options. He'll be happier back in Resembool, with a—hopefully—more stable family life. I mean, I'm not exactly in the safest profession in the world, right? I could be killed at any time, just up and dead. He almost got shot at that one time! It wouldn't be worth the risk in the end."

"You always took the risk with Alphonse," Hawkeye pointed out, quite accurately, too.

"That- that's different. We were more equals than anything, and he was nearly invincible—my fault, of course. I've grown up, Hawkeye."

"It's not a sin to consider your own wants and needs, E—sir," she stopped herself.

"You told me once that you'd given promises—part of your heart to someone else. Well, so have I, really." He spun his chair slowly to face the window behind him, not seeming to have the strength to do much else. "Maybe it was foolish of us, and maybe those parts of our hearts have withered in their hands, but there's no avoiding it's true. I couldn't keep her son away from her if I tried. And Al, well, you already know I'd do anything for him. You understand, right?"

He could see only a hint of her silhouette in the window, but heard her reply, "Yes, I do."

And that was all that needed said, that could be said. Each returned to their work.

OoO

The bed was neatly made. The sheets and blankets washed. The dresser drawers were completely empty. And yet, though it had been two weeks since Van's departure, Edward had yet to reclaim what had originally been his bedroom.

He had grown used to the couch, he supposed. And though sometimes he awoke to a dull ache in the automail port from a slight chill, it wasn't that much of an inconvenience. Besides, he was almost always up late most nights, eating a very late dinner, fixing a quick cup of coffee, and digging into his research on the different case files. Some of them really were interesting, and were rather top priority. He had already worked through two of the folders Mustang had brought him.

It had been a bit of a shock, therefore, when Gracia and Elysia had stopped by one evening.

"Oh, Edward, good, you're home. You see, Elysia had something to ask you."

"Oh? Well, what is it?" He asked, genuinely curious as to what the soon-to-be teenager had on her mind.

"Well, I wanted to know Van's telephone number. He kind of wanted to stay in touch, but I sort of forgot to ask for it. So- I didn't want him freaking out or anything." Elysia didn't see the amused smile on her mother's face, but Edward did.

"Uh, yeah sure, let me write it down. Um, make yourselves comfortable," he called over his shoulder. When he returned with paper and pencil, he found the mother and daughter had sat themselves on the couch. Elysia was looking rather bored, but Gracia was obviously scanning the place with a careful eye.

"Has work been keeping you busy lately?" She asked politely enough.

"Yeah, I'm working on a few different things at the moment," he replied. "Would have tidied up if I'd known you'd be coming though, I guess it sort of looks like a wreck." He gave a little chuckle, but she didn't really share in his amusement. It was clear that she was worried about him.

"If you need anything, Edward—"

"I'm fine, really Gracia." She held his face under scrutiny for a moment, and then sighed.

"I suppose, but I think I'll bring some pie around sometime; I've been teaching Elysia to make it and you look like you could use some home-cooked food."

"Thanks, I'd really appreciate that. I'm sure you'll be great at it too, Elysia," he smiled as he handed over the phone number and she took it with a quiet thank you.

"Well, I guess we should be leaving," Gracia said and he led them back to the door. Before exiting, she added, "Make sure to take care of yourself, Edward. I know you and Alphonse travelled a lot so you may not know, but colds and other sicknesses pass from person to person in Headquarters in the winter."

"Right, I'll keep that in mind," he told her and watched them descend the steps of his building.

Shutting the door, he let one massive yawn escape from him. He eyed the couch for a moment, and then his gaze fell on the papers spread over the desk. The higher-ups wanted his conclusions tomorrow morning, and he wanted to help stop that terrorist ring…

Edward headed to his tiny kitchen to brew another cup of coffee. He sighed as he realized he would need to buy more the next day.

**Ok, not the longest, but I wanted to finish it up and get it out to you guys tonight. Let me know what you think. And also, Happy New Year! Thanks so much for reading, and please review!**


	24. Chapter 24

**I took a bit of a break writing for this story, but I learned something very important. Anybody who writes for the Harry Potter fandom should seriously listen to this advice: If you do not write Severus Snape as the absolute _angel_ he is (apparently), then the fangirls will come after you. It's not pretty.**

**Anyway, decided I like writing this story better. And I have 141 reasons why. Thank you all so much!**

**Dobby's Polka-Dotted Sock**

**Chapter Twenty-Three:**

**Trying**

He blinked slowly to awareness and tried to comprehend this feeling of comfort. Even though they had arrived off the train in Resembool two weeks ago, it felt strange to wake up in his own bed.

He was further confused by a heavy, yet not painful weight resting on his arm, and his eyes nearly bugged out of his skull when he searched for the source.

Winry was sleeping soundly beside him; the most peaceful he had seen her in years. It was a strange, lovely sight, and came altogether unexpected. But he couldn't even dare to speak it out loud, for fear of shattering the quiet moment and returning to their usual distance.

So Alphonse slid out from under the covers and changed into his clothes for the day. It surprised him when he opened the bedroom door, that there should be the smell of pancakes and eggs being cooked in the air. It couldn't be that late in the day.

But when he descended the stairs and went into the kitchen, he found Pinako at the stove stirring at some scrambled eggs while Van watched from a stool placed next to her. They were talking quietly, but turned when they heard his footsteps.

No one was speaking, so he tried a "Good morning."

Pinako recovered quickly enough and replied, "Morning to you as well. Didn't expect you to be up this early. Then again, Van's turned into an early riser, too."

"I was hungry, cause right now I'd be in math class," Van told her, "or at Elysia's house if Uncle Ed is busy on the weekend." He seemed to think over his words and looked back nervously at Alphonse. He simply went to the cupboard to grab plates to set the table with, trying not very successfully to ignore the stab of shame that went through him.

How had it gotten to the point where a little boy would stare at him in fear?

Well, he reasoned, children had stared at him in fear often when he had journeyed with his brother. But that had been different, it had been his body that frightened them. Now, it was his personality. And this little boy was his own son, which made it so very different. If Edward was to be believed.

And yet, as he sat heavily in a chair at the table, he had known his brother was telling the truth as soon as he had spoken—shouted—it to him at the jail. Alphonse always knew when Edward was telling the truth.

That worried him, though, for why hadn't he been able to accept this truth for eight years? Why had he always been so determined to argue and confront his brother?

Perhaps because his brother had broken the trust they had in an entirely different way, which upset Alphonse much more than whether Edward had had feelings for his then-girlfriend, now-wife.

"Are you going to eat that at all?" Pinako's voice cut through his musings, making him notice that they had joined him at the table and his breakfast was steaming on his plate.

"Of- of course," he answered, picking up his fork and beginning to eat. It was only a short while later that Winry wandered quietly into the room and took her place. They were all seated, a seemingly perfect family. And yet it made Alphonse jumpy to look in Van's direction, because it struck him that somebody else used to occupy that chair when they were all together.

The small boy finished soon enough and turned to Pinako to ask if he could play in the yard. She agreed easily enough and he gave a cheer. "There isn't really much grass in Central. Uncle Ed lives in an apartment, where they stack everybody's houses on top of each other!" He seemed bolder in saying the name this time, reassured that his father wouldn't react.

The old woman nodded, acting as though this information on apartments was new to her. "Well, don't wander too far. You'll forget to come back for lunch."

Van was pulling the door open, but looked back with bright eyes and a confident smile. "Don't worry!" The door slammed and took all the sound and feeling with it. He suddenly felt the urge to leave; this always happened. Usually he would trudge down the path to the bar, hoping to find some comfort in the loud meaningless noise of the townspeople. Today, he thought of a different solution, that maybe he should follow that sunny, happy child. But he had no reason to follow his son, no excuse to merely check up on him.

Granny Pinako took pity, removing the pipe from her mouth to say, "I need someone to cut the weeds out front. Maybe you feel up to it for once?"

He looked at her in surprise and gratitude; somehow she had read his tangled thoughts. "Sure, I'll do that." He took the little curved blade and soon found himself kneeling in the early morning sunshine, cutting away at the stubborn weeds. A little ways to the left, Van had his arms wrapped around a branch above his hands, his feet struggling in vain to make purchase on the rough bark in an attempt to climb the tree.

Alphonse watched for a while, looked back at his work, then had the thought that perhaps, he could help.

Van certainly was surprised when two strong arms lifted him from the ground to the tree. Once settled in the branches, he wriggled around to face his father looking up at him from below.

"Thanks!" The boy said, offering a little smile, and Alphonse felt his lips curve a little in response. "I thought maybe I'd gotten big enough to climb this tree, but I guess not. I don't want to be short, but Uncle Ed says if I keep drinking my milk I'll be tall someday!"

Alphonse blinked in surprise, before slowly shaking his head. His brother was just the type to give out advice that he hardly ever took for himself.

"Uncle Ed knows how it feels," he heard himself say. "He used to be the shortest person anyone knew." Van looked shocked at this revelation, and Alphonse felt another smile pull at his mouth.

"Really? But he's so tall now! Is that's what's gonna happen to me?"

"Maybe," he said with a slight shrug. He turned, thinking he should perhaps return to his task.

"Where did you grow up?" He turned in confusion at the question, not really sure what was meant.

"What?"

"Well, Mommy grew up here with Granny, and Uncle Ed grew up in Central—"

"He didn't."

Van stopped, tilting his head in a way that showed he did not understand.

"He grew up here, and I did, too."

"Oh," Van said. "So why isn't he here? Why can't- Why can't we all live here?"

Alphonse stood for a while, his hands buried deep in his pockets, and not quite able to make eye contact with his young son. Finally he sighed and said, "It didn't work out that way. Besides," he added, "Your uncle wouldn't be able to live here. He'd die of boredom."

"Really? But he said he likes Resembool."

"Well, he did try, I suppose. Here, I'll show you." He held out his arms and the child clumsily dropped from the tree into them. Together they walked up a hill and Van looked with interest at old wooden framework, some of it rotting from long exposure to the elements, or already collapsed in other places. "He was building a house," he explained, "But we got into our argument and he lit out…never finished." He couldn't help some of the familiar bitterness and frustration leaking into his tone, and Van leaned away slightly.

"That's sad. Why did you fight?"

He looked down at the boy who blinked innocently back up at him. After all this time, the years burying so much emotion and unspoken words, it was nearly impossible for him to think of anything to say in answer. He simply released the breath he hadn't realized he had been holding in one sharp exhale.

And Van stayed by his side, standing before the abandoned house, until later when Pinako called them in for lunch.

"Where were you?" Winry asked as her grandmother bustled about getting plates and utensils, and Van washed up in the bathroom.

"We went to look at Newlywed Manor," Alphonse said, try to gauge her reaction. Many of the townsfolk referred to Edward's unfinished project as such, the popular story being that it was to be the eldest Elric and Winry Rockbell's new home. Even now the story was widely believed to be fact.

But Winry merely looked down at her interlocked fingers and quietly murmured, "He was building it for you. He wanted the two of you to live there. He never had plans for me."

He found he could barely eat his lunch, feeling more confused and frustrated and alone than ever.

OoO

He tried to ignore the slight moisture gathering at his forehead and worked to keep his breathing even. Still, he must have looked a sight struggling to carry one of the biggest stacks of books ever seen down the halls of Central Headquarters.

"Edward Elric!" He nearly jumped in alarm at the booming voice, but managed to keep his balance to his and anyone within a five foot radius' relief. He poked his head around the tower of books to properly see the man who hailed him.

"Lieutenant Colonel Armstrong, can I help you?"

"No, I am in no need of assistance. In fact, I would like to offer my services. You seem to be in need of a few extra hands!" With that, the large man took the books from his hands and easily held half in each arm. If that didn't make him feel weak in some way, he wasn't sure what would.

"No, Colonel, I'm fine. Really—"

"But my office is in this direction anyway. Please, allow me to help!" Somehow, Edward felt like this wasn't really about the books anymore. Armstrong was looking at him quite seriously, and so he finally sighed in defeat.

"Alright. But I'll carry some; I'd feel like a jerk if I made you do everything." They found a suitable arrangement and continued through the building toward the library. Armstrong seemed to be thinking of something to say, which was odd because usually the man could go on for hours about nothing at all of interest.

"You know, I admire such dedication to your work, Edward Elric," he finally said.

"Thank you," he replied easily enough, having expected something a little more profound.

"Did you know dedication is a trait that has been passed down my family line for generations? Yes, to work hard and long at something is a very good thing."

"Of course—"

"But one should never forget the importance of balance! It is vital to leave time for rest and rejuvenation of both the body and spirit. Then concentration comes easier, strength comes easier, and work can be done well for longer periods of time. It is a cycle, one that should be understood."

Edward, who had tried and succeeded several times to suppress a yawn that threatened to overtake him the whole speech, decided to cut to the chase. "So you are telling me?"

"I think, Edward Elric, that you—"

"Lieutenant Colonel!" It was Lieutenant Ross' voice behind them and Edward realized they had passed Armstrong's office. The bigger man's loud tones must have alerted his subordinate to his presence. "Sir, there is a large pile of paperwork sitting on your desk from this morning."

"Ah yes, well, time for me to take my dedication to this task. Regrettable, are you sure—"

"Yes, Colonel, I'll be fine," Edward replied, already taking the rest of the books from him. He gave a sort of nod in Ross' direction and continued down the hallway.

"Remember, balance!" Armstrong called after him.

Sheska looked up at his arrival in the library, a bewildered smile gracing her features.

"Well, this is a familiar sight," she commented, hurrying to take some of the precious volumes from the top.

"Yeah, either they're getting heavier or I'm just hogging more of them," he joked, finally coming to a stop at the check-in desk.

"Alphonse would carry some of them," she reminded, and he blinked once before it really set in.

"Oh, yes…of course. I guess I forgot. Silly me, right?" He managed a short laugh and she offered a little smile in return.

"Right."

"Well, I'm just maybe going to look around a bit before leaving, so don't mind me." She nodded as she got to work stamping the books, and Edward wandered down a random aisle. As he went further, the sound of the stamp hitting the page grew muffled and faint before blending out entirely. It was easy to feel alone in such a large building, isolated from everyone else.

Honestly, the shelves were built for people Armstrong-sized. Even at his current height, he could barely see what was on the top shelf. He recognized some of the titles as books that Alphonse had searched for and then brought to his brother's crowded, dusty table in a forgotten corner. He remembered the fit he'd thrown when he realized that his younger brother was merely perusing the top shelves that he couldn't reach for these books, and spent a good two days fuming anytime someone mentioned the word library. He wished he could take back every harsh word he had used, every foul mood he had displayed with his brother. He had wasted all the good times, he realized now.

They had made one of the best teams. He would scour the low, dark places full of despair and horror, while Alphonse would lift his face to hope, and the good things he saw around him every day, high where Edward never dared to dream. Let alone reach.

_"Anything you need to tell me?" He hoped it was short. He wouldn't put it past Van to try and sneak more than one pretzel._

_The doctor adjusted his spectacles and looked up from his chart, frowning._

_"Van is fine, in perfect health. Nothing to worry about there. But you, Colonel Elric. You…"_

He couldn't tear his gaze from those books. So high, forcing those below to work, to _dedicate_ themselves to reaching.

_"Me?" He asked in confusion. What on earth did this checkup have to do with him?_

_"Yes. I know it wasn't really official, just making Van more comfortable, but I couldn't help noticing."_

Al was gone now, not there to reach for him. He didn't want to reach for his brother anymore.

_"Your reflexes in your human limbs were quite dulled. I don't know much about automail, so I didn't test it, but I don't think they have been affected. See, I don't think it is your mind that is slowing down."_

But that was good, wasn't it? It wasn't—it hadn't been—fair to make Al stay with him, work for him. He needed his own life, away from meddlesome older brothers.

_"Why did he stay with his friend if he caused all that trouble and wouldn't let him do nice things?" Van asked innocently. Edward could only shrug._

_"It's hard to understand, Van. But he really was that good."_

He had been so good. And he still could be. He had to be. For Van, and Winry. All Edward wanted was for those three to become a family like they should have been all along.

"_Then what's wrong?" He asked numbly._

"_It's more your body is slowing," the doctor explained. "For example, I think normally you could have avoided whatever caused you that shoulder wound. But as I've said, you're slowing down. I'd have to run some tests, but…_

Because they could still find happiness and good in each other. And in the things around them. Alphonse and Winry were so kind, and Van just as much. He had brought warmth and contentment to his grumpy, old, lonesome uncle.

"_He'll be happier back in Resembool, with a—hopefully—more stable family life. I mean, I'm not exactly in the safest profession in the world, right? I could be killed at any time, just up and dead."_

The comforting, sunny hills of Resembool would do all three good, he hoped. He really wanted it to work, it's all he could cling to at this point.

"_I would guess it is some kind of non-contagious pathogen, hard to catch early on. I'm not entirely sure where it might have originated, again, this is all guess work and observation," the doctor continued, oblivious to Edward's blank face as he stared at something not there._

His arm, acting separately of his scattered thoughts, lifted as though to pull one of the books from the shelf on his own. But it was so heavy. And he wasn't sure if he could do it alone.

"_Genetic, maybe?" He heard the words from his lips, but didn't quite register thinking them in his brain. The doctor merely nodded, as though considering an interesting crossword Edward had presented to him._

"_Likely. The best course of action, then, might be—where are you going?"_

No, he couldn't. Even now, he felt as low and mired in the darkness as when he had searched desperately for the Stone. And Alphonse wasn't there to pull him up.

_Edward stood at the door, and favored the doctor with a tired, wan smile._

But he had done all he could to lift his brother up fully to the light. One of the few things he truly counted in his life as success. But it had left him exhausted, and sad, and alone. He wasn't waiting, waiting like his mother for someone. He was well and truly alone. And somehow that didn't seem worth fighting.

"_There's nothing you can do for me, doctor. And my nephew's waiting." He left the other man standing in the little room and smiled for Van, ruffling his hair and telling him it was all fine._

His eyelids, heavier and heavier all the time, finally won the battle they had been waging, and fell closed. His eyes did not see the ground coming up to meet his face.

Edward Elric lay on the floor, one arm outstretched, unmoving, until Sheska and the janitor almost finished closing the library.

OoO

Riza held back a yawn as she put away the finished paperwork. She would simply drop it off on her way out for the evening. She pulled her arms through her coat and reached to turn off her lamp, the sole light still on in Colonel Elric's office. But she heard the phone in the inner office ring shrilly, and paused in her movement.

She decided it would be best to answer and at least take a message, but couldn't help frowning upon entering the place. Once she flicked on the light, she saw the disarray it had been left in. His own paperwork which she had assumed he had turned in sat signed, yet spread all over the desk. A few books from his own collection had been removed from their shelves and not been placed back. An unfinished mug of coffee, now cold, sat abandoned.

All these things she could puzzle only a moment over, for the phone still rang. Picking it up, she said, "Lieutenant Colonel Elric's office, may I ask who is call—"

"Major Hawkeye!" A female voice gasped on the other end of the line. Then the sobs began, and she thought perhaps it was Sheska, from the library. Come to think of it, Edward had mentioned something about returning books. "It's terrible! I- I don't know what happened, but- but—"

"Miss Sheska please, calm yourself," She said firmly, but gently, and yet couldn't help her growing worry. "Explain why you are calling."

"Well, Edward—Colonel Elric—came to return books- and- and he said he was just going to look around. I sort of forgot about him, it wasn't that strange, was it?" She seemed to be seeking reassurance, so Riza replied,

"No, it wasn't strange."

"Oh good. I won't be able to forgive myself if- if—" Here, the other woman broke down again, and Riza had to work at it almost five more minutes for her to calm down. "It was time to close up, and the janitor and I do a final check of all the aisles. To make sure everything is in place."

"Yes," she said to show she understood.

"But, then, I saw his hat- and he was lying there! I couldn't tell if he was breathing—his face was in the carpet—and I screamed!"

"He had collapsed?" She managed in horror. "For how long?"

"I don't know!" The other woman burst out. "And now he's at the hospital and I didn't know what to do!"

Riza found herself quickly organizing all the paperwork into a neat file, ready to turn in. "Go home and try to get some rest, I'll go to the hospital."

"O-okay," the librarian sniffled, and Riza hung up the phone. She barely stopped at the front desk, merely shoving the paperwork at the bored-looking secretary. Her car was relatively close, and soon she was driving to the hospital.

How could this have happened? How had none of them even seen this coming? She berated herself the while drive there, hoping that she would find Edward awake and well upon her arrival.

**And, there you are! I'm hoping this was good and made up for the wait! Definitely let me know what you all think about this chapter. I'm very grateful for all the feedback and encouragement I have already gotten for this story!**

**On a side note, I just saw that new FMA movie that came out. I recommend it; it's a little OC overloaded, but there's some great/serious/funny/actiony/profound/hilarious/typical moments involving our favorite Elric Brothers!**

**Anyways, thatnks very much for reading, and please review!**


	25. Chapter 25

**Well, I'm taking pity on you all and updating again. The response was overwhelming, and I really appreciate it!**

**Dobby's Polka-Dotted Sock**

**Chapter Twenty-Four:**

**Wait**

She paced back and forth in the entirely too small waiting room, frustrated and yet resigned. She was familiar with hospital policy and knew she should have expected this from the moment she thought of coming here. Family was given the priority, and neither she nor anyone else would be allowed in beforehand. All she could ask for was his current condition.

Riza wasn't sure why she was holding off on making this call. Perhaps because she felt she wasn't the person to tell them. Perhaps because she wasn't sure they would care. Or that even if they did, they didn't have the right to be the first ones to see him. She knew it was selfish, but couldn't help thinking such things.

When she thought of Van's face, however, she knew there was no other option. Riza did not want to think of how the boy would react if Edward…

"Rockbell Automail, how may I help you?" Mumbled a tired, gruff voice on the other end of the line, and she realized she was speaking to Pinako Rockbell, a woman she had only met once and who had been rather abrasive. And yet, Edward seemed to value this elderly woman's trust and companionship. She might be the easiest to talk to, all things considered.

"Ms. Rockbell, this is Major Riza Hawkeye from Central," she began.

The other woman seemed to hum in recognition of the name, and replied, "Right, what seems to be the problem, Major? Ed would've called himself otherwise." As old as she was, the woman was rather sharp.

She decided sticking to the facts would be the best approach. "He's been hospitalized after collapsing. I don't know much, but it appears he was suffering from a disease he inherited—"

"From Trisha. I see," Though the voice remained calm, she heard a tired sigh escape and it was awhile before Pinako said anything more. "How's he now?"

"Resting. They won't tell me much, except that he's still unconscious."

"They won't tell you more?"

"They wish to speak to family, if at all possible."

Another sigh. "Alright. I'll let them know in the morning. I can't guarantee much, but if necessary I'll take Van up myself. It might be hard for him, but he should go."

"You don't think—"

"I don't know much about medicine, Major Hawkeye. That was my son and his wife. But when those boys found their mother on the floor, she didn't hang on for much longer."

She couldn't really form words, and nodded numbly for a moment before realizing she had to verbally respond. "Yes, Ma'am."

"Let's hope I'm wrong," and the line went dead. The brief conversation cured Riza of her pacing problem; now she sat stiffly in a chair, not sure if she could trust her legs.

OoO

Alphonse made his way quietly down the stairs again and found the usual setup. Pinako and Van quietly speaking over the nearly cooked breakfast. It was a new, but calming routine, and he couldn't help but feel happier about this change.

The peace was shattered once Winry joined them at the table, and Pinako took the moment to clear her throat.

"We got a call late last night. From Central," she started, and Alphonse looked up nervously. What could they want? Did it have to do with his admittedly foolish conduct while there? "It was from a Major Hawkeye."

"Really?" Van asked, rather excited, but it did nothing to lower Alphonse's curiosity. He hadn't really seen much of the former Lieutenant during his stay at the jail, and only knew that she did work for both Mustang and his brother now.

"She was calling from the hospital. Ed's been checked in, he's ill."

Winry looked up sharply, and Van sat in shock, mouth hung open with no sound to accompany it. And Alphonse himself sat mute, struck dumb by such an odd sentence. Edward did not go to the hospital for sickness. He went to the hospital with gaping, bleeding wounds, usually against his will. He would rather suffer through a fever in a lonely motel room in some out of the way town than let anyone take him to see a doctor.

"B-but, he was fine. Why is he sick?" Van asked finally, and it snapped the rest of them out of their daze. Pinako quietly explained about how sometimes people got sick, while Winry reached a hand out and found his. Her eyes seemed to beg for some form of reassurance, and Alphonse felt his own hand gives hers a slight squeeze, still bewildered himself by the news.

"How bad is it?" Winry quietly asked, and Pinako gave a tired sigh, fishing around in a pocket for her pipe.

"It's noncontagious, but the Major isn't allowed to see him. They want to talk to family first. Actually, they might want to look at you, Alphonse," she remarked, as though the thought had just come to her.

"Me? Why?" He found himself squeezing his wife's hand again, not liking the way this was going, and feeling his own need for reassurance.

"Because, it's passed through genetics," she explained. "He has your mother's disease."

OoO

He sat silently as Winry packed three bags, a feeling of dread having stolen over him. It had crept in and settled somewhere around where his stomach had been, clenching painfully every time Van asked if Uncle Ed was going to be okay, but always there.

Other than this cold fear, he felt completely numb, perched on the edge of the bed and merely watching through wide eyes as his wife folded the last of the laundry. He took the bags from her to carry, but didn't feel their weight. They walked down to the station, but he didn't feel the cool breeze, didn't smell the grass or flowers that normally brought the people of Resembool peace and comfort.

All he felt was as empty as being a suit of armor.

The train trundled along at its steady pace, and he wasn't sure if he wanted it to speed up or slow. He wasn't sure if he was ready to face whatever waited at the end of the journey.

Every time he closed his eyes he saw his mother, lying helpless on the kitchen floor, the tomatoes she had bought only that morning splattering the wood or rolling away. It seemed sharper, and clearer than he remembered, and suddenly he realized why. In his memory, Edward had always been there to obscure his view, block him from truly feeling the horror. But instead, little Alphonse turned around to find his brother all grownup and collapsed just as their mother was.

"What's the matter, Al?" Edward asked. "You've seen me like this before. Hell, you've knocked me down before. What's the difference?"

"No," little Alphonse said, but then he started to grow and grow and his voice changed with him. "I hit you, but- but I don't want this!"

Edward, even as he lay unmoving below, smirked up at him, and said, "It's too late for what you want. You should be happy. You hate me, remember? It'll be better when I'm gone."

"No!" Alphonse shouted in protest. How could he have let Edward think that? "No, I was just mad, I was angry at you because you always do this; you never let me help you! I never hated you! Brother, I don't want you dead!"

"You could never help me, Al. I'm just as broken as mom, and you can't fix me just like we couldn't fix her. Goodbye, Alphonse."

"Brother, NO!"

"Daddy?" A little voice with a little hand on his arm pulled him from his troubled sleep and he found himself staring at van's wide gold eyes. So much like his own as a boy, not at all like Edward's…Edward's eyes had been burdened with so much even at that age.

"Wh-what?" He asked, surprised at the hoarseness of his voice.

"You- you were yelling in your sleep. Mommy went to get you some water, she said you'd need it. But, I think she's crying. What were you dreaming about?"

"Nothing. Nothing to worry about Van," he said, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. He didn't want to sleep again for a while. He saw Winry approach, and her eyes did look a little red. He couldn't help but wonder who she had been crying for.

"Here, I thought this might help," she said upon sitting down, handing him a little cup.

"Thanks," he replied and gulped the cold water down.

They sat in silence the rest of the trip.

OoO

"What do you mean, only family can see him? I'm his superior officer!" Roy Mustang demanded of the doctor, who looked intimidated, but still managed to shake his head at the famed Flame Alchemist.

"I'm sorry, General, but that is the policy. As Alphonse Elric is of age, he is the primary contact." Mustang sighed and let the man go, before heading over to drop into the chair next to Hawkeye. He supposed it was a good thing in a way. It showed that military might was finally being combated against, which meant they were that much closer to democracy. But things had been much easier when the Elric Brothers were both minors.

"How long did Ms. Rockbell say he had?" He asked quietly.

"She didn't," Hawkeye replied in equal volume, but her face fell as she continued, "Just that their mother passed on a few days after her own collapse."

"Fullmetal's a fighter," Mustang said after some time, not sure if he was speaking to his subordinate, or himself. "He's combated tougher things than sickness. And he's at the best hospital Amestris has to offer. That certainly counts for something. Now what's taking his brother so damn long?" He finally burst out, patience worn very thin.

"They're here," she breathed from beside him, almost in a whisper.

The doors to the waiting room had opened, and the Elric family walked in, Van in between. He was holding his mother's hand and his father had placed a hand on his son's shoulder. They would look like a normal family if they weren't all so tense.

The nurse left to retrieve the doctor, who returned and led the three into the hospital proper. Now all they could do was wait, again.

"What do you think is going through his mind?" Hawkeye asked abruptly.

"Whose mind?"

"Alphonse's. He's been in a feud with his brother for eight years and now Edward might- well," she faltered and did not go on.

"I'm not sure. I'm hoping it's something close to guilt."

When the family finally returned, Van looked a little more cheerful, but his parents were still the same. The boy spotted them and led the group over.

"Hi Colonel Mustang, hi Major Hawkeye," he said and they gave their hellos. "The doctor says Uncle Ed is sleeping right now, but he might wake up soon." Mustang managed a tight smile for the child's benefit and saw Hawkeye do the same.

"I'd like to see him before I return to the office," he told the doctor, and was led down a hallway before arriving at the door to Edward's room. He did very much look like he was simply asleep, face smoothed out, free of any and all pressing concerns that bothered him in wakefulness. But the pale tone to his cheeks and the IV placed in his arm ruined the picture, making him remember why he was here.

He waited until the doctor left the room before saying, "You know, Fullmetal, you're probably the strongest man I know. I never really realized it until I couldn't see. I was lost, I couldn't control the situation, try to help at all. But you took charge, and you saved us all. I'm proud to call myself your commanding officer. But if you let some damn cold beat you, after everything else, I'll court-martial you posthumously. And I'll make you do all the paperwork for me."

The young man on the bed gave no response, just kept sleeping.

"I'll let the men know how you're doing," he said, and found he couldn't stay any longer. The doctor escorted him out, and he simply nodded at the little group still in the waiting room.

OoO

Winry sat in the chair by the bed, occasionally glancing at him, but mostly watching her son, who in turn was watching him. He did nothing, just kept resting.

She wasn't sure how to feel. She kept expecting him to wake up, ask what on earth they were doing here, just sitting around his bedside like they were mourning. But nothing happened. She was almost glad.

Trisha Elric had woken just long enough to say goodbye, and then had fallen asleep for good.

She loved her husband. She truly did. But she cared so much for his brother. She cared the most for the both of them, together, like they always had been. But when they'd gone their separate ways—when Alphonse had declared his hatred for the elder and Edward had travelled far away without the younger—that was when she had felt her heart break.

Winry had always wanted them to stay with her, safe and sound. But she had foolishly tried to anchor them both there, and had driven them apart. And she couldn't seem to find her voice, to tell Alphonse to _go after him_ to beg Edward to _please come back_, and the tears had threatened to spill over. But she'd held them back with silence. Now she wished she had just cried a river if it meant they would have worked it out.

But tears couldn't wash away a hospital bed, an IV, a sickness she didn't understand. Her tears had no magic power. All she had ever saved lives with were—

Her hands.

Her hands which had sat empty and fidgeting, playing with whatever she could find. Her hands which had gone unused for so long.

She couldn't fix this. But she could fix so much more. And maybe, that would bring a smile to his face, if he woke up for that last time.

OoO

_**1918**_

"Ed!" A voice called from downstairs, and his eyes opened suddenly to find himself nose-to-page, fallen asleep as he researched. He stretched and couldn't suppress a small groan in response to his stiff neck and sore back, having been slumped in a rather uncomfortable position at his desk for so long. Resembool did not seem conducive to extensive research. It filled him with a contentment and lethargy that washed over him and stilled his usually constantly firing brain. He needed a clearer head. "Ed, dinner's ready!" The voice called again, and he couldn't stop the smile taking over his face, even as he gave up and submitted to the same, calm routine he had been following.

He knew Winry worried sometimes she'd find him up and gone, leaving on some grand adventure that materialized out of nowhere. She worked her hardest to make him happy here, satisfied with this easy life. And he was. But, sometimes, the call to head out and see and do was incredibly strong, and he'd find himself pulling the old suitcase out of the closet.

Her smile, her sparkling eyes, the familiar scent of granny's pipe smoke, Den's wagging tail, and Al's skinny little legs and arms, his mere face whatever the expression, all pulled him back in, to the point where he could hardly leave them long enough to make the short trip over the hill to keep working on the house.

It was almost ridiculous, and maybe someday he would go on a new journey, an adventure. But he would stay as long as he felt this peace, this happiness. So he headed down the stairs to join one of the sources of it.

"It smells great, Winry," he smiled, and settled down in one of the chairs.

"I'm glad," she said from the stove, then turned and laughed upon seeing him.

"Hey, what gives?" He asked, only slightly irritated.

"You fell asleep on your books again, didn't you?" She asked, and he nodded, surprised at her accurate guess. "There's an indent from one of the corners on your cheek," she explained, still laughing.

He felt his cheeks heat up in embarrassment as he rubbed a little self-consciously at the spot. She stopped laughing and came toward him with a kinder smile.

"Don't worry about it," she told him, reaching a hand out to catch his and pull it away. "Besides," she added, her own face blushing now, "it's kind of cute."

Something seemed to pull him up from his seat toward her, but he hardly noticed lost as he was in her smiling eyes. They started to flutter shut as he leaned closer, and she tilted her face up to meet his—

"I'm back from—what's going on?" The door banging open had surprised him into falling right back into his chair, and if his face hadn't been red before, it was now at the thought that his brother had almost walked in on him kissing their best friend.

But Winry's deer-in-headlights stare at his brother confused him a lot more. And that confusion only increased as he watched Al's eyes jump from him, to Winry, and then narrow.

"I hadn't realized I was interrupting," he began, his voice light, but eyes still narrowed, and Edward searched for something to say.

"No, that's, uh, fine. It was nothing. We were just—"

"Oh, nothing, Brother?" Al interrupted, and Edward felt shocked at the harsh tone.

"Um," he stood and made to walk over to his brother, a little uneasy. "Um, yeah. I mean, well—" Eloquent as ever, he simply asked, "Are you alright?"

"Right. Of course. I'm fine. You know, just a little surprised to find my older brother kissing _my_ girlfriend."

"We weren't—your girlfriend?" When had this happened? And why had Winry almost let him kiss her?

Alphonse finally had enough, and shouted, "Yes, my girlfriend! But of course, I should have known! I should have realized how much time you both spent together! Never mind you always telling people she was just your mechanic!" His brother's eyes were practically spitting fire, and glaring right at him with surprising ferocity.

"Al, listen, I didn't—"

"I don't care; I don't want to hear it!" He cut across, fists clenched, and Edward had a foreboding feeling all this. But he needed Alphonse to listen!

"Will you—" No, he had to stay calm. "Look, I had no idea you and Winry—"

"I'm sorry, I didn't realize I had to spell it out for you! Maybe for once, you could actually check before you do something _stupid_!" Winry gasped as the fist swung back and grazed his face, Edward having managed to step back just in time. He raised his arms in defense, but Alphonse took this as invitation to keep the punches coming.

"Al, calm down! I swear, I didn't know!"

"I tired of this! I'm tired of you only using what you know, what you think, what you feel! You never take anybody else's into account! I'm tired of _you_!" The last punch finally made contact, Edward backed up against the table. He fell back, elbows supporting him up against the wood surface, but Winry reached out an arm to his brother. Alphonse held back, but his eyes were still flashing dangerously.

He picked himself up, and hurried back up the stairs he had so recently travelled, yanking the suitcase from the closet and stuffing his few belongings inside, taking the shock and the anger and hurt out his things. He thought he heard Alphonse shouting at Winry below, but the girl was being oddly quiet.

When Edward returned to the kitchen, Winry was sitting at the table, face buried in her hands, but no sound coming. Alphonse looked up, a little surprised to see the familiar luggage, but still obviously upset with him.

"I'll say it again. I had _no idea_ you and Winry were involved. I haven't done anything else other than what you saw. Do I _have_ to leave?" He ignored Winry's anguished moan, muffled by her palms, and simply looked straight at Alphonse. "Maybe we just need some time to calm down, some time away—"

"Some time will never be enough!" Alphonse burst out, his anger rising again. "You stupid, reckless, thickheaded, self—"

He was out the door.

**And that was the long-awaited fight scene between Ed and Al that kicked off this whole feud. I'm hoping it lived up to expectations. I'm going to try and update again this weekend, but I don't know if it will happen. At any rate, thanks for the overwhelming response for the last chapter. I love to hear from you about this one as well! Thanks for reading, and please review!**


	26. Chapter 26

**Okay, I seem to be suffering brief insomnia, so you lucky folks get a new chapter!**

**Dobby's Polka-Dotted Sock**

**Chapter Twenty-Five:**

**Release**

She entered the room backwards, pushing the door open with her body as her arms were so laden down. Cards, balloons, candy, a stuffed bear, all filled her arms and she moved eagerly to the side table where she began organizing things neatly. Now the room had more color to it, but it seemed to have no effect on the actual occupant. Edward slept on.

He was not alone. Riza looked to the visitors' chairs to see his watchers Van and Winry fast asleep themselves, and did not envy them the uncomfortable beds. She made a note to look into arrangements for the family.

At this thought, however, Riza frowned upon noticing the conspicuous absence of Edward's next of kin, Alphonse Elric himself. Not feeling the most comfortable in a room of unconscious people, she decided she would do what she could to help Edward by finding Alphonse, for she was sure it would hurt him deeply if he knew his little brother was not there.

She searched the more populated areas, before turning down a dimly lit hallway and almost tripping over her quarry. Alphonse looked up, startled, and let out a little, "Oh!" of surprise at seeing her.

He stood and offered his hand, which she almost grudgingly took, as he said, "Hello, Major Hawkeye."

"Hello, Alphonse. What are you doing out here?" He looked away, realizing he had been caught, and so she clarified her point. "Why aren't you with your brother?"

"It won't make a difference," he muttered, then added more strongly, "The doctor's told me all I need to know."

"You can't be sure, though," she reasoned, "It could help in some way. You never can quite tell."

He smirked at that, but it held little humor. "I doubt it. Edward never believed any of that himself."

Riza couldn't help the anger that rose in her at his words. "Why are you referring to him like he's already gone? He's a fighter," she echoed Mustang's words, "he could still pull through!"

"Again, Major, I doubt it," he repeated, and suddenly she saw a glimpse of Alphonse from many years ago, frightened and at his mother's bedside. "The doctor says the treatment isn't foolproof; it might not cure him. And he has less time because of the automail, the pathogen spreads through more of his body quicker. The _idiot_," he seethed at the end, and the small sympathy she had felt was gone again.

"Idiot? He's an idiot? I would hope you remember, Alphonse, that he didn't exactly _choose_ to have auto—"

"Oh yes he did!" His eyes flashed, and suddenly he was speaking fast, gesturing widely, as though these words had always been there, waiting to be used, at the tip of his tongue for years. "He stood in front of that Gate and it gave him options! It offered him his leg back, he could have taken it! I would have been happy with a false limb! But no, he didn't, couldn't because he couldn't take a compromise. He'd promised me my whole body and I was going to damn well have it whether I liked it or not! But what about _me_, Brother? I promised him, too! I said we'd get them back, together! That he wouldn't have to live with our foolish mistake all the rest of our lives!

"But he throws it all away, like it's nothing, for me! How do you think I feel, you can't understand what it's like! The guilt just stewing, eating away at me every damn minute I smell, or taste, or feel! And I can never repay him!"

"Why?" She breathed, and she felt he more read her lips than heard her tiny voice.

"Because that was the price, Major Hawkeye. That's what he gave up. See, it wouldn't be fair for Ed not to give up anything in return for my whole body, right? He couldn't take all of me back with him, that would cost too much."

She couldn't follow, all this information came so fast, all at once, but a great apprehension was overtaking her, and for some reason she felt afraid of what he would say.

"My leg! It isn't _mine_! I didn't ask, didn't want him to give it to me! But he did anyway, because he promised! It was always about getting my body back, a whole body, all along, I should have known! He would have given up his arm again, too, if he could!"

Riza felt a little faint, and leaned heavily against the wall as he continued to rage.

"And now he's lying there, that disease that's haunted us our whole life, and it's raging through him faster than ever because he _doesn't have enough of a body to fight it off_. And he made me steal it from him! And—" But he choked on the words and his shoulders shook.

For a terrified moment, she thought he had perhaps gone mad with laughter. And then she heard the sobs.

"If he dies, it's all my fault," he whispered as the tears poured over.

OoO

_**1918**_

"You stupid, reckless, thickheaded, selfless—" the door slammed, but he continued, "sacrificing, noble, softhearted, idiot!" His words sounded loud in the tiny kitchen, and they hung there for a moment as he stood dazed by the silence that met it.

"Oh god," he breathed suddenly, and rushed for the door, wrenching it open, hoping—

But Edward had already disappeared down the path, gone. He had really truly left him.

Alphonse's knees went weak and he slowly sunk to the floor, completely drained and feeling as though he wanted to cry. But his eyes remained dry.

OoO

"We're glad to see you three again, although the circumstances aren't ideal," Gracia offered as she led them up the stairs and into the apartment building. Van, in familiar settings, hurried with Elysia up the stairs and waited as the parents took their time. Once stopped in front of the door, Alphonse pulled the key from his pocket, which had been given to him along with the rest of his brother's more valuable belongings to hold onto. He fitted the key in the lock somewhat clumsily, and pushed the door open.

"Oh my," Gracia gasped in surprise.

Edward's apartment was a mess. Books, papers, and countless empty coffee mugs covered a large desk, a blanket was tangled and covered some of the couch, dishes sat piled up on the counter by the sink, but bags and cartons from takeout were stuffed into an overflowing trashcan.

It was obvious to anyone that his brother must have been struggling to power through his last few days before the collapse.

"Elysia, how about you and Van pick up some of the trash, and I'll get to work on the dishes," Gracia suggested and strode toward the little kitchen. The children went to work easily enough, and Alphonse found himself drawn to his brother's desk. Winry followed, and began taking the mugs from the front room to the kitchen.

He felt the first smile in some time tug at his lips upon surveying the familiar cramped writing, the haphazard arrangement of the books. He could easily picture Edward at work here, scratching down notes tirelessly and flipping a page.

But no one had been there to make him take a break. No Alphonse to remind him that one of them needed sleep. No Van needing to be tucked in with a curfew.

Edward could not survive on his own.

He turned and put as much distance between the desk and himself, coming to stop in front of a closed door. He was almost afraid to see what clutter awaited him.

The room, however, was spotless. A neatly made bed, bare dresser, plain, unblemished walls. It was frozen, waiting for someone.

"That's my room." He turned to find Van pointing inside.

"Oh," was all he could say.

And when, that night, Winry tucked their son into the covers before bed, it truly felt like Van belonged there.

OoO

Riza tried and failed to stop the yawn escaping her. It was no use, it was far too late already and she was expected at work the next day.

"I'm sorry, Edward," she said, trying not to think about that fact she was speaking to an unconscious man. "I'll be back again tomorrow." She stood, and touched his hand briefly before pulling away, turning out the light, and leaving the hospital.

As Riza Hawkeye started the engine of her car and pulled away from the quiet building, a pair of golden eyes slowly opened.

What on earth was he doing here? A hospital? The last thing he remembered was going to the library, and—oh…

Had he collapsed? He wasn't sure what to think. He'd hadn't thought he would be thinking at this point.

But he felt better than he had in days, weeks really. His vision seemed sharper, and clearer, and he had a feeling over control now, not like he was working to stay awake every minute.

He grimaced slightly at the IV stuck in his arm, but he supposed it would be foolish to mess with it. It was safe to assume whatever they were pumping into them was doing its job.

So instead, Edward looked around the empty, darkened room, not sure what he was searching for. A large pile of what looked like gifts sat on a side table, along with a phone.

Well, he might as well call someone. For some reason, a doctor wasn't the first person he wanted to talk to. But Edward paused as he went to dial. Who was he going to call?

Judging from almost complete quiet, the darkened sky, he wagered it must be rather late. It would be rude to just wake somebody up just because he felt like waking up now. He didn't even know how long he'd been out.

So he decided he would call his own apartment and leave a message. Mrs. Loftus had it set up that if an occupant did not answer on the third ring, the caller would leave a message at the front desk.

Edward held the receiver to his ear, listening to it ring once, twice—

"Hello?" A tired voice asked that he instantly recognized.

"Al?"

**Aaaaaaand, I have to sleep now. Sorry. But I've been up waaaaaaay to long. I have never wanted feedback for a chapter as much as I have for this one, please, please, let me know what you think! Thanks so much for reading, and please review! **


	27. Chapter 27

**Ok, I think I've kept you guys waiting long enough. Here it is, thanks so much for cheering me on!**

**Dobby's Polka-Dotted Sock**

**Chapter Twenty-Six:**

**All My Tomorrows  
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He waited, waited for the inevitable disconnect of the line and the monotonous dial tone, perhaps accompanied by a harsh dismissive word. But it didn't happen.

Finally, a word. "Ed?"

"Yeah," was all he could think of, quite taken aback by the situation, really. He had been expecting to leave a message, go to sleep, and maybe find out what was actually going on in the morning. And now he was talking to a real live person. His brother, specifically. "Um," and though it was no doubt ungodly early in the morning he tried to sound the least bit accusing as possible. "What are you doing in my apartment?"

"Oh!" The voice said, as if suddenly realizing the same thing himself. "Well, we needed a place to stay," Alphonse explained, "It was kind of short notice."

"We?" He asked.

"Yeah. Winry, Van, and I. We all came up to Central. The whole—family." The last word trailed off quietly, as though it felt odd on his tongue.

"Well," he said after a moment. "That's nice. I guess because of me?" He knew it was the only logical explanation, but he couldn't see why it would be true.

"Yeah." Another pause. It seemed that they had exhausted their long shouting matches and couldn't remember how to talk normally to each other. Edward wasn't even sure why Alphonse _was_ trying to speak normally to him. Knowing it was potentially thin ice, he asked anyway.

"I can't help but notice you don't seem, um, mad at me. I mean, normally you kind of—"

"I'm not mad at you, Edward."

"Really?" He couldn't help but ask.

A rather frustrated sigh. "No. Well, yes, I was. And I still sort of am, but, not because of why you—why everybody thinks I am. I—ugh." It was clear his younger brother was having trouble thinking of how to explain it.

"Then why were you mad?" He prompted, trying to guide this odd conversation he never thought would happen.

"Because you lied, Ed. And not about Winry, I know that. But we promised each other, and you lied."

"…oh." He felt very cold, like the blankets he was under had been ripped off and the windows had been thrown open. Because he knew he had no defense, and that frightened him. Maybe that's why they'd never had this talk, because Alphonse already knew his brother couldn't say anything. Except: "It was my fault. You deserved way more than I could give you, Al."

"I didn't deserve anything!" It wasn't an ear-splitting scream, but Edward still winced. "I made just the same mistakes as you, Brother. Why couldn't you ever understand that?" There was frustration in his brother's voice, but also a note of pleading in it.

Edward sighed. They had always disagreed on this point, and he felt that they probably always would. So he decided, the least he could do for Alphonse was to come clean.

"You're right," he said simply. "I never intended to get my body back." He heard a sharp, almost painful intake of breath from Alphonse on the word 'never'. "It was always about you. By the time we were even close to figuring out how to get your body back, you'd paid more than your fair share of the price."

"But so had you," his brother stubbornly insisted. "You always say you're selfish, Brother. Then tell me; was it selfish of me that I wanted both of us to end up whole? Was I asking too much?"

Edward smiled a little sadly and said. "You're not selfish, Al. You just could always hope for more than I could. You're so much better—"

"Please don't say that," his brother nearly whispered on the other end of the line, "Not after everything I've done these past few years. And what about you?" He continued. "You inspired people to hope, to dream, to get up and keep walking on their own two feet." A slight hesitation, and some of the old ire slipped back into his voice. "But I can't _do_ that, Brother, because I don't have my own two feet."

Edward knew that this was it; they either had to get past this, or they would never reconcile. "I know. But, I gave it to you so it _is_ yours, Al. I have no claim to it whatsoever. Just like you tried to give me an arm, for your soul. Scared me half to death," he repeated what he'd said at the jail, and somehow it elicited a slight chuckle from his brother.

"I know, but I was running out of options. We were running out of options. If you hadn't been able to fight Father, we would have been in real trouble."

It did almost seem funny looking back. "Yeah. Well, I was running out of options, too. I promised you we'd get our bodies back, but I promised I'd get yours back most of all." And he knew Alphonse knew it, had known it from the beginning of their journey.

"You know, I never thought I would fall in love with Winry," Alphonse said after a pause, and Edward blinked. "I mean, we fought over her as kids, but we didn't know what marriage was."

"No, no we didn't," he agreed. There hadn't really been many examples of it in their childhood anyway.

"But, after everything, I was so, _lost_. I mean, I was—I'll always be grateful, Brother. But I was kind of- hurt, you know? I mean, I'd gotten your arm back, which you gave up for me in the first place, but I still was in debt to you. And I hated myself for it."

"There's no debt," Edward assured them. "I never expected anything in return."

"Equivalent Exchange, Brother," Alphonse quipped, resisted the urge to roll his eyes at the unforgiving law that had defined their lives.

"But anyway," Alphonse said, "I couldn't really talk to you about it, could I? But Winry was there, and maybe she didn't totally get it, but she was really sweet to me. Made me everything I could eat, listened to me when I was upset, and just sat with me when I didn't feel like saying anything. She made me happy, Brother. And I think—maybe?—that's love."

"Yeah, Al," Edward said softly, and he chose not to notice that his eyes felt a little wet, "that sounds like it to me."

"But, she liked you plenty, too. I mean, I think that's what she was always scared of. That the one she didn't pick would leave. And I guess it sort of did happen, and that's maybe why she always is so sad."

"I guess it did," he said, remembering what Havoc had mentioned about Winry feeling guilty towards him.

"She used to get really nervous, too, when you'd go out to other towns to repair stuff. Like she thought you'd get swept away and never come back. I'm pretty sure if there'd been some other pretty, single girl in Resembool she would have shoved you two together." He smiled at that, imagining Winry the match-maker. Back when she was younger and unwavering in her actions. What their fight had done to her was perhaps the worst, second only—in Edward's opinion—to Van.

"I feel really bad about how I've been toward her," Alphonse said, echoing his thoughts. "And I think I'd like to make it up to her somehow."

"I'm sure she'll forgive you," he told his younger brother. Alphonse simply snorted doubtfully.

"I don't know. I can't believe you still even want to talk to me. I stole your leg, Winry picked me, and I've been a complete jerk to you for I don't even remember how long."

"I gave you my leg, Al," he insisted. "And it's not your fault who Winry 'picked'. I was never right for her anyway. Can you imagine how much brain damage I'd have from that wrench of hers by now?" He felt a slight twinge of pride when Alphonse actually laughed. "And I was a complete jerk to everybody for years; I guess it was your turn or something."

"Haha, maybe," his brother acquiesced. "Boy, we're a pair of idiots, huh?"

"Completely uncool," Edward agreed with a grin.

"We're both half-asleep, in the same city, talking on the phone about deep, life-changing situations that we really should have talked about a while ago." Perhaps that's what explained his brother's looser tongue and tranquil manner. "And we each only have a leg of our own to stand on."

"Well, I guess we're even then."

"How's that?"

Edward raised an eyebrow, though he alone knew it. "We never told you? Right, it was going to be a surprise…never surprising anyone again. Well, I guess we really are fair-and-square then, because if you stole my leg, I totally stole yours."

"What do you mean?" Was the bewildered response.

"Remember a little bit before we started fighting, I got my automail replaced—cause I grew two more inches," he still couldn't resist pointing it out.

"Uh-huh," his brother said, refraining from commenting on the last bit.

"Right, well, Winry decided she was going to make it the best, strongest one yet, since I didn't really have a job to keep paying her ridiculous prices." Another snicker over the line from Alphonse. "Well, I've had the same leg for almost eight years, Al. And it's never broke. You want to know what's it's made of?"

"Um, yes. That's an amazing record." He chose not to take offense, because this was really far too important to waste defending his reckless behavior on.

"Your armor, Al. For all these years, every harsh word, every punch, despite it all you've been helping me every step of the way."

There was a very long silence. He was tempted to break it. But Alphonse finally did first. With a rather odd choking noise. Then a sniffle. And suddenly his brother was crying on the other end of the line.

"Al?" He asked uncertainly.

"Well, how can anyone stay mad at you after that?" his little brother managed in a wavering voice. "What have we been doing, wasting all this time?"

"Hey, we're still alive," he pointed out, though again he found himself blinking to clear his vision a bit more than usual.

"God, I'm so glad to hear you say that, Brother." His tears subsided soon after, and Alphonse drew a shaky breath, then was quiet.

"We're both tired. Get some sleep, Al," Edward told him, and the phrase still made him smile.

"Okay," his brother agreed. "Goodnight, Brother."

"Goodnight, Al."

OoO

He opened his eyes to a rather pleasant vision of Winry hovering over him, re-tucking a blanket that had somehow fallen off in the night. Though she jumped when he groaned at the stiffness in his neck. How had Edward managed to sleep night after night in this chair when Winry and Van had been staying with him?

He then inadvertently made his wife physically back up two steps when he abruptly sat up. Last night—that conversation. Had it all been real?

And when Alphonse looked down, a huge grin split his face. The phone was still clutched in his hand.

"Winry, you'll never believe it," he said, practically leaping from the chair. She looked more confused than he'd seen her in years.

"I—what?" She then let out a shriek a surprise when he reached out and wrapped her in a hug.

"I talked to him!" The words tumbling excitedly from his lips. "He called the apartment, here, last night! He's awake!"

"Who? Edward? Edward's awake?" He pulled away so he could see her face, but held her by the shoulders.

"Yep! He's awake! Well, he was awake, we went back to sleep—but he's got to be awake by now. He's had days to sleep! So let's go!"

"I'll wake up Van," she said, and Alphonse had a feeling she wasn't quite convinced. Van mumbled slightly in protest, until Alphonse stuck his head in the door and announced they were going to the hospital. Then the boy was dressed and standing at the front door in seconds.

By the time they reached the hospital, some of his euphoria had died down. They had talked, but not face-to-face. Would that still be awkward? Of course, there was also the very real issue that Edward was in a hospital, diagnosed with a disease that Alphonse knew from first-hand experience was fatal. There was the very real possibility that he had made up with his brother only just in time.

But that hope Edward had claimed he had limitless amounts of still couldn't be completely quashed, not even when the doctor looked skeptical at his story of speaking to his brother.

"Well, we can see if he is responsive," the man said doubtfully. He led them to the room, and there was already a positive sign: Edward did not look like he had been calmly laid down to sleep in a hospital bed. He looked much more like Alphonse remembered; hair slightly mussed, lags tangled in the blankets, mouth slightly open with his head turned into the pillow, and he was willing to bet Edward's left hand was resting on his stomach under the covers.

"Colonel Elric," the doctor said, calm and quiet.

Edward shifted slightly and grumbled, "I swear, Van, there's no such thing as after-dinner supper, Breda was pulling your leg." That was something not from Alphonse's memory. Usually the grumblings were directed at him. Before the doctor could continue calmly rousing his brother from sleep, Van interjected with a protest.

"But Lieutenant Havoc said it was true, too!"

His brother was sitting straight up, eyes wide and aware, and arms raised in defensive stance before anyone could blink. Van was the only one who seemed used to it. Alphonse fared only slightly better; Edward could snap awake like lightning after a nightmare, but not like that, and not all the time. It made him remember the intervening years that still lay between them, even if they were making progress on moving past it all.

"Oh," Edward finally relaxed somewhat, and turned to the face he didn't know. "You're the doctor, I guess."

"Um, yes," said the man, still recovering his composure. He did after a moment, then started jotting things down on his clipboard. "I'll have breakfast brought to you then. Once we run some tests, I'll have a proper prognosis." He bustled from the room shortly afterward.

"Well, it's uh—" He had to break off because suddenly Van had run around to the side of the bed and hugged him. "Great to see you all together."

OoO

She was walking through the hospital parking lot with the hugest, most outrageous vase of flowers she had ever seen. The fact she had managed to get them both into and out of her car was still amazing. Riza knew that they were a very special, no doubt expensive, gift from the Emperor of Xing, but Ling Yao had to have the most ridiculous taste in flowers in the world.

Still, they needed to be delivered. It wouldn't be fair for her not to just because she felt silly carrying them. After all, it was a great show of friendship, something Edward didn't receive much of. And the flowers were apparently hand-picked by the Emperor himself, from his own personal garden.

Riza wouldn't put it past Ling Yao to have picked them just for this purpose.

She certainly was an eye-catcher in the lobby. One nurse happened to be wheeling a cart of food from the cafeteria to the patients bed-bound. She stopped to stare at her, and then her face lit up in recognition.

"You're here for Colonel Elric, right? I think I saw you yesterday." She nodded, a little surprised. The nurse smiled widely. "Well, you'll be happy to know one of these is going to him," she gestured to the cart. Riza almost dropped the vase in shock.

"He's awake?" She asked the obvious question.

"Yes he is and his family's in there now. But, since you brought a gift, I think I can let you in." She wanted to protest that these flowers had not been _her_ idea, but decided to accept the woman's favor.

"Thank you," she simply said.

What she found when reaching the door both filled her with surprise and warmth. The Elric family, all four of them, were sitting around, talking. Of course, Edward was sitting up in a bed with an IV in his arm, but he was very aware. She even saw Winry open her mouth to respond to something he had said.

She almost didn't want to intrude, but the nurse pushed her cart through the door and Edward's eyes found her. The huge grin that broke out on his face she hoped was for her, but the raised eyebrows indicated his amusement at her gift more than anything.

"These are from the Xingese Emperor," she explained, setting the vase on the only available table-space left.

"Of course," Edward replied, biting back a laugh. Alphonse himself seemed to be fighting off a grin, and Winry was shaking her head at the extravagant display. Van, however, had his eyes on the food.

"Here you are sir," the nurse said and he accepted it with a smile. As soon as the nurse was rolling her cart back down the hallway, he gestured to the plate and looked at Van.

"Help yourself; I know you'll appreciate it even if it's garbage." Van dug right in, starting with what she supposed looked like eggs. He paused though when Edward placed the cup of milk in his free hand.

"But you need it, Uncle Ed," he said in confusion, "The teacher at school said milk makes you stronger."

"I don't need it," he waved dismissively.

"Yes, you do," Alphonse and Winry said at the same time, no doubt recalling the old argument. They paused and glanced at each other, smiling a little. Riza believed it was for that reason alone that Edward took back the cup and drank it all.

"I should phone in to the office," she said.

"Okay. You'll be back after, right?" He asked.

"I'll have to see. I'll do my best," she offered with a slight smile. He returned it and she went to find the phone.

The General seemed happy and relieved to hear the news and gave her specific orders to "Keep him awake until I can finish this ridiculous amount of paperwork. He is not allowed to go comatose on me." Riza was glad. She wasn't sure she could concentrate on her work today.

It was a little past noon when the doctor finally returned.

"Well, we've successfully fought it off, for now. Since you are an adult you can discharge yourself if you so desire. I would insist, however, that you check back with us in two weeks, even if you still feel the same. Try for a little trust in modern medicine, Colonel." Edward turned away a little sheepishly, and the doctor now addressed the visitors.

"Colonel Elric gets ridiculous notions in his head that his life is not something to waste effort on when he is alone for prolonged periods of time." Riza could tell the man was only half-joking. "Please try not to let that happen again."

"Of course, sir," Alphonse replied seriously, and he was obviously deep in thought. When the man left, Winry turned toward Edward.

"You're an idiot," she said with surprising strength to her voice. Edward looked her full in the face, and nodded. She turned to her husband. "You both are idiots. I'm an idiot. But, we're idiots together from now on, right?"

"Of course," Edward told her, but Riza sensed a 'but' in there. Apparently so did she.

"But you won't come back to Resembool. You'll say you'll call or write and visit, and I guess you will, but only when something's wrong and we have to fix it."

"You fixed so much in the past. I hope you'll be so busy again you won't even notice I'm gone. But I will call. And write. And visit. If you'll have me." He directed it at the whole family, but Riza still felt her chest constrict tightly. Because here it was.

She was tethered to her job, her position and promise to help Roy reach the top. Edward was tethered to his own variety of job, his determination to see his loved ones happy again. There was room in their hearts for each other, but not fully. They were a broken pair, and were now wired to the point where they didn't need that 'special' kind of love, and couldn't see why it would be worth giving up everything else for it.

She was pulled from her thoughts when Edward swung his legs around and started to sit up. She and another gasped, and Riza reached out and found his wrist. He smiled reassuringly at her, to show that he was fine and could get up on his own.

The other who had gasped was Van. Edward had taken time to change before lunch while Van and his parents had left to call Pinako Rockbell and she had been reporting in to the General again. But the boy could now see the flash of metal from an foot usually concealed by a boot.

Edward smiled at him and even pulled the left pant leg up a little, something he normally didn't do when people stared at his automail.

"It's pretty neat, huh? Your mom made it for me. You want to know who she got it from?"

Van nodded eagerly, and Edward knelt to meet him eye to eye. "The Gentle Armor Giant."

Riza blinked and yet was still positive of what the unfamiliar title meant. Her suspicions were confirmed when Alphonse reached out and gave his wife's hand a little squeeze.

"Brother?" Alphonse asked, and Edward rose back to normal height. Riza felt that same combination of surprise and warmth at the old, yet familiar name.

"Yeah, Al?"

"I think the doctor is right. You really don't do well alone. And you should have someone to be there for you—like we were for mom." Edward nodded slowly, obviously unsure of where this was going. "That's why—if you'd like—I think Van should stay with you."

He rushed on before Edward could even start to protest. "I know he's my son, and I do love him. I really want to get to know him someday. But, I have an obligation to Winry first. I'd like to make things right with her before I try to be a dad. We've got a long way to go." He looked to his wife, and though she looked watery-eyed, she was nodding and had a smile.

"So, there's that. And, like I said, you need the company. I'm sure Lieutenant—sorry—Major Hawkeye and the others will watch out for you, but still. I'd feel better knowing you had someone there whenever you needed. Since I can't be there for you myself." He smiled reassuringly down at his son and ruffled his hair a little. Van was looking between the two brothers, obviously waiting for the decision.

"I see how much you adore him," Alphonse finished. "And he'd be lucky to be raised by you, Brother."

Edward stood there, opened his mouth but to no sound, passed a hand over his eyes, swallowed a no doubt huge lump in his throat and finally spoke.

"I- I don't know what to say," he said in a voice he was obviously trying very hard to control. Then he took two steps forward and threw his arms around his brother. "Thank you," she heard him say, though it was muffled in Alphonse's shirt. "You always give me the best you have."

"You're the reason I'm able to," Alphonse managed, holding onto his brother just as much. She was sure both were struggling not to cry. Winry had already lost that battle, but didn't seem to mind and had one of her old, brighter-than-the-sun smiles on her face.

Edward and Alphonse started for a moment, but relaxed, and Riza looked down to find the source. Van had one arm wrapped around his father's leg, one arm wrapped around his uncle's leg. And he was hugging both as tightly as he possibly could.

**The End**

**I'm really not kidding. This is it.**

**Okay, I'm slightly kidding. I plan to post an epilogue next.**

**But, there you have it. It's been an incredible, what, four/five months? Wow. I never expected such an amazing response; this is literally the most popular fic in terms of reviews I've ever written. Thanks to everyone: readers, reviewers, alerts, favorites, those who just found this, started reading somewhere in the middle, or have been here since the start! It's meant so much to me! I really want to know what you thought of this chapter, so please review!**

**The epilogue will be coming at you soon!**


	28. Chapter 28

**Well, this is it, everyone. After all this time, and over 180 reviews…wow. I really never thought all this would happen, but the fact it did makes me smile every time I think about it. I won't be writing a sequel. You can imagine lots of fun Elric Family get-togethers, Ed and Van and maybe sometimes Al going on epic adventures, and of course fun times at the office. If I were to write it into a story, however, I'm sure it would be dull. As for other stories, well…I'm mulling ideas over in my head. Of course, what I should be doing is working on my other stories in the HP fandom. Oh well.**

**Anyway, I'll stop the sappiness now, and give you what you really want. Thanks so much for reading!**

**Dobby's Polka-Dotted Sock**

**Epilogue**

_**1943**_

He looked up at the sound of Barry barking and scratching at the front door. They had a guest, it seemed. He rose from the chair and placed his reading glasses down on the page he had been studying to mark his place. After all, they might be entertaining for a while. He only made it halfway down the stairs before Sasha reached the door, starting to pull the old, but still powerful dog out of the way, laughing when the animal licked her face.

"I got him, Dad," she said while Barry's paws and claws skittered about, trying to make purchase on the wood floor.

"Okay, Sasha," Alphonse replied. His daughter, sweet, sixteen-year-old Sasha was more than he could have ever asked for. She was of a delicate build like her mother, but had his height. Her hair flowed down her back like spun gold, but her eyes were like Winry's shimmering blue gems. His two girls were joys to him every day.

Barry, of course, had probably the sharpest senses for a dog he had ever seen. So it really didn't come as a surprise when Alphonse did not find his visitor on the doorstep. Sasha spotted not one, but the two, first as they crested the hill and came into view, and she gasped in delight.

The man stood tall, with the same golden hair and eyes as himself, though he wore his hair long, tied back into a ponytail. His companion, a woman with light hair, had an arm looped around his elbow.

"Van!" Sasha cried and her brother looked up, smiling warmly at the sight of his father and sister waiting for them at the door. Sasha had let Barry go, and the dog ran to the pair walking toward the house leaping around them in excitement. Elysia smiled and let go of Van's arm briefly to rub the dog's head in greeting.

Alphonse found himself turning to call into the work room. "Winry, I think you might want to take a break. You'll never guess who just showed up!"

"Give me three guesses, dear," was the response, and he heard her place whatever piece she was working on down with a clang, and his wife quickly came out to the front room. Her face split into a huge smile when she saw their guests. They had finally reached the porch and she walked to them with open arms.

"Van, oh it's good to see you," she wrapped her son in a hug, which he returned, and then did the same to Elysia. "What a surprise! How's your mother, dear?"

"She's well, thank you."

Van now was being treated to a hug by his sister, who paused to tease him, "What's with the suit, huh? You stopping by on your way to some fancy gala or something?"

Instead of responding in kind, Van hesitated, his eyes meeting Elysia's across the room. He then looked back down at Sasha. "Just came from somewhere, actually."

Alphonse had noticed their attire. Elysia was dressed in a nice, if modest, blouse, skirt, and jacket, while his son was wearing a suit. Both were in black. It made him uneasy, and yet he still had to ask.

"What's happened?"

It all seemed to pause. They all looked from him, to Van who was staring right back.

"Uncle Ed. He's—gone." His son's voice broke on the last word, and Elysia stepped toward him, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder. Van looked at her almost gratefully, as though her presence was the only thing keeping him from breaking down.

Sasha had gasped at the pronouncement, while Winry placed a hand to her mouth, eyes wide in disbelief. Alphonse, meanwhile, placed a hand against the doorframe to support himself.

"When?" He asked hoarsely.

"Last night. I asked them to hold it from the papers. I—he said he didn't want you to find out like that."

He nodded. It made sense; Edward had probably been thinking of when they had learned about Elysia's father's death from the newspaper all those years ago.

_Had been_. He wasn't thinking anymore.

"There was a brief, private service," Elysia said when it seemed Van wouldn't continue. "Just the President and close associates. The body will be coming here for the funeral."

He noticed dimly that Sasha had helped Winry to a chair where she was wiping furiously at her eyes, Barry curled up at her feet and releasing a faint whine every now and then.

"How?" He seemed only capable of one-word questions, but no one commented on it.

"It was really sudden. He gave this old man his umbrella on the way home from work because it was raining. I—I wish I'd known, I would've made him stay home, take some medicine, somethi—" Again, Elysia reached out and brought her hand to rest on his son's shoulder, and it seemed to calm him greatly. "I—I'm sorry, Dad."

It was then he realized that this whole time Van had been avoiding his eyes. That wouldn't do.

"What have you to be sorry about?" He asked, and Van did look up at him in surprise. "There was nothing at all you could have done, and you know it. He knew it, too." He would not allow his son to be eaten up by guilt the way he and Edward himself had been.

Winry stood, a little shaky, but gently easing her feet out from under the dog. "I'll fix up something for you to eat. You must be hungry. Sasha, will you—"

"What do you need me to help you with, Mom?" Winry smiled gratefully at their daughter and wrapped her in a hug. The two women then left for the kitchen. Alphonse meanwhile turned his gaze out the still-open door.

"Dad?" Van asked.

"If your mother asks, I've gone to the usual place," he simply said, and started slowly up the hill. He walked along the fence that bordered his neighbor's yard, the relatively new, fresh-painted house built upon the remains of his childhood home and Edward's aborted project. The neighbor's cat, seeing a familiar friend, yawned and stretched, walking over so that Alphonse could pet it. It was funny, he had pitied those strays and wanted to keep them, and yet he'd always been a dog owner.

Soon, the cat was behind him, and he stood at familiar wrought-iron gates. Pushing them forward, the hinges squeaking only a little in protest, he travelled past the other stones and rocks that made up the landscape until he finally came upon the two familiar graves.

_Trisha Elric. Van Hohenheim._

Another would soon be joining them. _Edward Elric_. And it made Alphonse smile to realize that his brother would be in the right place. To Trisha's right. Yes, their mother had loved Van Hohenheim to the very end, and he was a great man, but Edward had always been her right-hand man; taking care of himself and Alphonse when she was no longer able to. Yes, this spot would suit him nicely.

He hoped that when his time would come, he would prove himself worthy of being placed to his brother's right.

"I know you always did best in the bustling cities, Brother. But here, in peaceful Resembool, you can finally rest those weary eyes and traveler's legs…"

OoO

Riza stood before the memorial marker, looking at the hard words cut into the enduring rock. They held a weight, even if he truly wasn't there. The place of that honor was Resembool. But she felt perhaps that she, the woman who had helped him, watched him grow into something no one could have ever imagined, would be welcome every now and then, to pay a visit. She felt that Edward might smile to know it, too.

OoO

Edward Elric, Vice President of Amestris, Master Alchemist, Hero of the People, was dead at forty-four. He left no sobbing window, no distraught children, nothing of the sort. He had lived a surprisingly empty personal life.

And yet that seemed to make the loss of him almost all the greater. For instead of the masses pitying a small collection of mourners, the grieving spread slowly outward, from his brother's family, to his political mentor, President Roy Mustang, to office workers, acquaintances off the street, scattered through cities and towns visited in times past, and even places where his mismatched feet had never touched.

Because so-and-so had a cousin who met the Fullmetal Alchemist. What's-her-name had an aunt who had been coming to visit on a train that had been hijacked and then saved by the young, blond hero. A friend of a friend of a friend of a friend who had their life thanks to him.

Little by little, across the world people had opened up their hearts and let the traveler in, without even realizing it. And there forever more would he remain.

**So, I know that exploded with sappiness at the end, and you're probably all going to kill because I technically did kill Ed, but that's how I saw this story ending. I hope it was satisfactory and really showed the point I wanted to make; even if I didn't give Edward that fairytale ending like in the manga/Brotherhood anime, he still lived a life that was full and helped fill others' lives.**

**Yeah, it's cheesy. Ignore my babble.**

**Some points of interest: Yes, in my mind, Van and Elysia are dating. It's cute. I got Sasha's name by combining the names of her grandmothers. Sarah (that's her name by popular opinion anyway, I haven't actually checked) Rockbell and Trisha Elric. Sasha. Because when I combine names, I do it with such a skill that it actually makes a name. I certainly am not making a jab at any author, particularly of the teen-paranormal-romance genre (which apparently is a genre according to Barnes & Nobles…yeesh).**

**Anyway, take it for what it is, this is the official end. I'm so grateful for all the support, interest, etc while writing this story. It's been an amazing experience, and I'll miss hearing what you have to say about my writing! So I guess I'll have to work on a new one, huh? At any rate, thanks so much for all your time reading, and please review! **


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